


Blood and Sweat, Tooth and Nail

by anthemofourlives



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: F/F, M/M, Rescue Missions, Resurrection
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-03
Updated: 2019-07-21
Packaged: 2020-02-16 09:30:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 35,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18688771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anthemofourlives/pseuds/anthemofourlives
Summary: “Listen to me Eliot, let me make this perfectly fucking clear,” Margo enunciated every word, looking between his eyes solemnly as she cradled his face in her hands, “We’re getting that boy back, do you hear me? I don’t give a shit which universal laws we break, I don’t care what gods we kill, I don’t care what price we pay. We are getting Quentin Coldwater the fuck back.”





	1. Chapter 1

-

It was two and a half weeks since they lost Quentin. It was longer than that since Eliot had last been able to fight just to get a few sentences out to him, see him clearly through his own eyes instead of catching hazy confusing snatches of traumatizing scenes.

 

Eliot was waking up every night from the same dreams, faded memories played on mute, soaked in golden light. Snippets of time he could hazily remember, all featuring Quentin. The life they’d lived together, the family they’d raised. Smiles, kisses, shoulders leaned on, hands held. Long days, beautiful nights. Meals shared, knowing looks, tender moments. And every time he was forced to wake to a cold, empty bed next to him. Forced to realize he was never going to see Q again, never hear his laugh, never hold him. Never just sit in silence and share a moment together. Sometimes the dreams turned, tainted at the end by snatches of time he’d stolen from the Monster, glimpses of Quentin through _his_  eyes. The longest shower wasn’t enough to wash the feeling of him away. That wasn’t something you could see swirl down the drain.

 

Margo tried sleeping next to him one night, but it was just worse wake up to someone curled into him only to feel the too long hair, the softer curves, and realize after a beat where he hoped against hope Q was back... that it wasn’t him. Margo had settled on leaving his door open at night so she could hear him and help him through the panic attacks, the despair, the heart wrenching sobs until he was sick.

 

This night was just like any other, until his dream led him to remembering he pulled the trigger that let the Monster loose into the world. He sent Quentin on this hopeless quest, he’s the reason Q was willing to risk anything. If he’d figured out a different way, Quentin would still be alive and they could find another way to save him, find someone else who deserved that fate. Eliot woke with a start, sitting bolt upright in bed, shaking with the cold sweat he was drenched in, gasping for air. Eliot clutched at his hair, feeling the racking sobs coming on before they were there. His bones ached from it, like he was shattering himself with the force of his own sheer misery.

 

As if by some psychic link, Margo let herself into the room, sitting gently on the edge of his bed. Eliot felt a pang of guilt as he looked at his best friend’s face, her eyes puffy and red, circles bruised dark underneath from lack of sleep.

 

“It’s my fault,” Eliot croaked out, voice rough and raw, “Bambi, if I-”

 

“Hon, if it’s your fault then it’s mine too. I’m not about to let you take all the credit for thinking up that half-baked turd of a desperate attempt to save him,” she looked at Eliot desperately, “Eliot, we were trying to _save_ him.”

 

Eliot had known Margo for a long time, and it was always a complete shock to see her cry, see her armor crack just a bit, see the raw anguish she was feeling. He reached out, pulling her gently towards him and let himself be a rock for her in this moment. She melted into him, silently sobbing, afraid of letting anyone else hear this perceived weakness. She held tight to him, and he clutched onto her like a lifeline, tears running down his face and into her hair where her head was tucked under his chin. They stayed like that for a long time, El couldn’t tell how long. At some point he closed his tired eyes, must have given in to the exhaustion of grief and his still healing body.

-

E _liot Waugh never quite understood what it meant when someone was described as breathtakingly beautiful until he saw Quentin Coldwater stumbling out of the brush and onto the Brakebills campus for the first time._

 

_ Given, there was a certain air of being completely unsure of himself, not to mention the heaps of anxiety. He was almost more cute than drop dead gorgeous, lucky for Eliot he didn't really have a type, so somehow it worked out that Quentin was. His type that is. And now Eliot was rambling in his own head so he might as well stop staring at the lost child and be somewhat useful, seeing as that was Henry's exact request. _

 

_ "Quentin Coldwater?" Eliot called out from where he was lounging on the marble ledge that announced the school’s name and smoking. He knew in his this outfit it was a striking, overly dramatic look, and that’s exactly what he wanted. _

 

_ "Uh-huh..." Quentin replied, a million questions seeming to fly across his face at once. _

 

_ "You're late," Eliot paused for dramatic effect, and to see the panicked expression flit across the other boy's face "Follow me." _

 

 

_ "Uh, okay. Um... hey! Di-... where am I?" Quentin stuttered. _

 

_ "Upstate New York." _

 

_ "Upstate... but I was just... hey. Okay, wha-what is this place?" _

 

_ "Brakebills University," Eliot explained "You've been offered a preliminary exam for entry into the graduate program." _

 

_ Quentin briefly paused, then "Am I hallucinating?" _

 

_"If you were, how would asking me help?" Eliot retorted "Come on, or you'll miss it.”_

-

Eliot felt himself slowly regain consciousness, feeling a weight on top of him. A body. It was comforting and familiar, if not a bit too warm, and the weight was painful where he was healing. Quentin had a tendency to take cuddling to the next level, needing to physically occupy the same space.

 

“Q…” Eliot started as he opened his eyes, seeing the dark curtain of hair, Margo’s face turning towards him as she woke up as well. Confusion, then guilt flash across her face as she quickly rolled off of him. Eliot wondered bleakly if he’ll ever get used to the feeling of his heart snapping, untethered anguish filling the entire cavity of his chest. He feels his eyes filling up with tears and tries unsuccessfully to keep them from spilling out, “I’m sorry,” he whispered, to Margo, to Q, to anyone who’ll hear it.

 

As Eliot sat up, bringing his hands to his face to hide the tears from her, or shield himself from the world, Margo intercepted him. Cupped his face in her hands and looked at him earnestly, like there was never anything more important in this world or any other than what she was going to communicate.

 

“Listen to me Eliot, let me make this perfectly fucking clear,” Margo enunciated every word, looking between his eyes solemnly as she cradled his face in her hands, “We’re getting that boy back, do you hear me? I don’t give a shit which universal laws we break, I don’t care what gods we kill, I don’t care what price we pay. We are getting Quentin Coldwater _the fuck_  back.”

 

“Margo, I-” Eliot choked back a sob that was threatening to escape. Tears were still streaming heavily down his face. Margo cut him off abruptly.

 

“Are you actually doubting me? What exactly is it you think I’ve been doing these past couple weeks? I’ve been researching my ass off. Come,” she snaps, grabbing Eliot by the wrist and leading him out of bed and to his cane.

 

Eliot had been operating dully through each day, going out into the common area and sitting with the rest of them, but barely absorbing the conversations had around him, only woodenly offering acknowledgment when addressed directly. He ate as much as he could bear to but it all tasted like cardboard and had the texture of cotton balls going down, sat in his stomach like a brick. He was offhandedly aware that Julia was worried about him, he wasn’t sure how far the other’s sympathies extended. He also worried for Julia, he knew the bond they had shared, and could see a broken, desperate feeling that resonated deeply with him when they made eye contact. Honestly, for the most part he barely registered what other people were doing, their milling about seemed pointless. Didn’t they know the world had fucking ended?

 

“I’ll be honest Margo, I hadn’t given what you were up too much thought,” Eliot said as he limped across to Margo’s room.

 

“I’d say grief has made you very self-absorbed, but that’d be cruel and a lie. You’ve always been self-absorbed, it’s one of your best traits.”

 

Eliot let out a soft chuckle. He appreciated that Margo wasn’t walking on eggshells around him, but she was still being supportive. While Margo wasn’t one to baby, she wasn’t a callous monster either.

 

Margo’s room was littered with research, books turned open, bookmarked and dog-eared, notes scrawled in margins and entire sections circled and highlighted. Eliot knew that though her process might look like a mess, whatever plan she had would be thoroughly thought through. Margo guided him to an armchair so he could get off his feet.

 

“Do you remember when we got killed by the Beast?”

 

“Well, yes, that kind of thing does stick with you.”

 

“So, we get resurrected by a god-powered Alice, where was Quentin?”

 

“Wait, did we actually die, though? I seem to remember that being unclear…”

 

“Okay, not actually part of my point, El,” Margo snaps “But I get why you would think so. Quentin was outside the Wellspring.”

 

“Wait?” Eliot said, realization dawning on him “Wasn’t he with that sketchy witch?”

 

“Exactly. If you’ll remember, she took a vial of his blood as payment for something it turns out she never had to deliver on since we had Alice hopped up on holy spunk.”

 

“He asked for it back but-“

 

“She was a greedy thieving bitch. We’re gonna go full Hansel and Gretel on her ass, because for what I’m cooking up we'll need some of Quentin’s DNA.”

 

“You think she’ll try to _eat_ us?”

 

“I mean we’ll shove her ass in a fucking oven if she doesn’t give us what rightfully isn’t hers.”

 

“Do you think… Margo, how much can I help with this, realistically?” Eliot asked miserably. The possibility of finding a way to get Q back was filling him with hope like he hadn’t felt in longer than he could remember. But physically, another fight after what he’d been through? He was in pain, leaning on both his cane and Margo most days. Being possessed by the Monster without the axes being the way to expel him would’ve left him in need of recovery, he was purposefully not delicate with Eliot’s body. Eliot wasn’t sure how much, if any, sleep there was to be had, and the Monster had leaned into Eliot’s addictive nature in a way that Eliot himself hadn’t in a long while.

 

Margo opens her mouth to reply, but is interrupted by Julia slamming the door open, a wild and frantic look in her eyes.

 

“Tell me what the plan is, right now,” she demanded desperately, “Tell me how we’re saving Q.”

-

_One week post Q_

 

Margo, 23, and Kady had gone out to stock the cottage up on food, Alice was holed up in her bedroom, no one was forcing her to get out of bed and spend time in the company of other people, like Margo did for him, Eliot and Julia were sitting in the common room, staring listlessly at the walls. Physically, mentally, he never remembered feeling more raw in his life. Every breath he took in felt like he was reopening a wound, and he had no idea if that was his actual injury or the gaping hole inside him where Q used to be. Nothing, nothing had ever been this painful. Not killing Mike, not any of the times he’d been bullied as a child, not the abuse thrown at him by his father. He’d lost something completely irreplaceable, and he didn’t know anyone that could understand. 50 years of faded memories, an entire lifetime together that was just beyond him actually being able to grasp onto. He’d never get a chance to live those in this life. He’d never see Quentin again.

 

“Do you know what I said to Q the morning before we took the Brakebills exam?” Julia asked, interrupting his misery spiral in a way that made it seem like she wasn’t completely sure who she was sharing the room with, voice hoarse with disuse and cracking from her own despair, expelling the memories that were haunting her as if that would soften them, “‘ _I am the angel protecting your future, Coldwater._ ’ He was going for his Yale interview, and he was so nervous. Hours later and that would seem pointless. But what a shit job I’ve done of that. Protecting his future. I’ve known him my _entire_  life. I’ve seen the signs every time he spirals. I should have done something.”

 

Eliot reached over, covering her hand with his, offering a silent gesture of comfort, hoping to communicate what he couldn’t verbalize. Julia started and looked down at their hands, then up at Eliot’s face, and laced their fingers together. Small gesture of physical comfort, small moment close to a kind of peace.

-

Margo gave Julia an assessing look, pursing her lips slightly, finally nodding in agreement.

 

“The first thing we need to get is a vial of Quentin’s questionably acquired blood from a concerningly stereotypical fairytale witch.”

 

“Okay, where is it?”

 

“Fillory.”

 

“So, we ask 23.”

 

“Seems like the only option right now. Are you two…?” Margo led, and Julia’s eyes seemed to truly snap into focus as hurt and anger flashed through them.

 

“We’re fine,” she replied flatly. Eliot shot a warning look at Margo, silently trying to communicate to her that she should put this line of thought to rest, but Margo pointedly ignores it.

 

“Look, Julia, I know we’re not close and our past is… complicated to put it delicately. I know this is far from my place, but you deserve better.”

 

“You’re right, it’s not your place,” Julia says harshly, but her expression softens a bit after a moment, “But thanks.”

 

Margo gave her another stiff nod, then turned to her desk and picked up a stack of papers held together with a red binder clip.

 

“Seeing as you’re the only one who’s been to the Underworld, you’re the closest we have to an expert. It’s not something there’s a ton of information on, so if there’s anything you can add?”

 

“I will,” Julia takes the papers from Margo and turns back for the door, then looks back at them, “Should we tell the others?”

 

Margo looks at Eliot for this, as if asking his permission, as if this mission belonged to him.

 

“The more the merrier, or something,” Eliot tried, “All hands on deck? No, uh, yeah, I think we’re going to need all the help we can get on this one.”

 

“Right,” Julia takes her leave, closing the door behind her.

 

“There’s something else,” Margo said, a few beats after Julia was gone, “El, I should have said something sooner, but I didn’t know how.”

 

“Bambi?” Eliot asked, feeling an anxiety build up in him and Margo shot an apologetic look and seemed to steel herself, biting her lip.

 

“Quentin, he was at the memorial fire.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So, what exactly is the game plan here?”
> 
> “Storm in, maybe rough the bitch up a little, ask for the blood, make her cooperate if she refuses.”
> 
> -
> 
> Warning for brief mention of suicide.

 

-

“ _What?_ ” Kady exclaimed incredulously, stepping forward from where she was leaning against the wall, “I’m sorry, but what does that mean.”

 

They were all gathered in the common area, Eliot and Margo, Julia, Alice, 23, Kady. Eliot had worried about this part, and he had to concede that if the roles were reversed he would also be angry. Nothing about what happened to Penny had been fair.

 

“This eyeball doesn’t exactly come with a how-to manual, or a guidebook,” Margo said impatiently, “All I know is, when I got to the fire, my fairy eye could see two figures, and I somehow knew it was Quentin and Penny. It seemed like Penny was leading Q, I’m guessing acting in some sort of official capacity for the Underworld Library.”

 

“And just now is when you decided that was pertinent information?” Kady demanded furiously “Not, I don’t know, two weeks ago when you _saw_  it?”

 

“It was kind of a difficult fucking time for all of us,” Margo flared up now, imperious in her anger, seeming to bring herself taller, bringing Eliot back to memories of Margo making impassioned statements from her throne when they were in Fillory, “I’m sure you can understand. It’d been a long couple of months, and before that another long couple of months. I was trying to see if I could find any kind of information about any of this before I stirred some shitty false hope for any of us, only for it to come to nothing. I don’t think anyone was in the kind of head space that would allow that.”

 

“Fine,” Kady allowed, “Then what did you find?”

 

“Well, mostly that texts on the Underworld are filled with a load of poetic, cryptic bullshit. Luckily we have our very own survivor of a trip to the Underworld,” Margo replied, gesturing to Julia, who was looking marginally more put together. Having a task to focus on was definitely a benefit to her.

 

“To be fair, from what we know, the loss of magic seemed to change the layout of the whole thing. I went before magic was gone, and I didn’t go to the Library, and they seem to be running the show. But I know how to get there, and I know someone who can help us,” Julia started carefully, “The East River dragon is our best shot at a fair chance there and back. If O.L.U. is down there, she owes me and I’m calling in whatever I can. If not, because it’s kinda unclear what happens to gods when they’re… well, Penny seems to have risen through the ranks. He’d be fair to us-”

 

“Haven’t we asked him for enough?” Alice asked, finally piping up. She seemed a bit paler than usual, her demeanor a touch more serious, “He’s literally risked his life over and over for us, that’s how he got down there to begin with. What ground do we actually have to stand on to ask for a favor?”

 

“So, what, we give up on Q?” Margo snapped impatiently, “Roles reversed, he’d do anything.”

 

“Besides,” Kady added, smiling wryly, “It’s not like Penny and Q ever got along. If anything, offering a way for Quentin to get out of the Underworld and away from Penny is probably the best thing we have to offer him.”

 

“Fair enough,” Margo agreed, pointing to Kady, “I love Coldwater, but those two always clashed. We’ve got our bargaining chip. Any other complaints?”

 

“Yes, actually,” Alice retorted exasperatedly, “You can get Q’s spirit from the Underworld, but unless you have a body to put it in, then we still have a huge problem, which is that Quentin would just be a restless spirit.”

 

“Isn’t building a body what you were trying to do for our Penny when you had my magic?” Julia asked pointedly. Alice shifted uncomfortably, not seeming to want to look Julia in the eye. Eliot hadn’t been here when that whole business had gone down, but he got the hint that it didn’t end well.

 

“ _Yes_ ,” Alice started sheepishly, “But… well, that way didn't end too well for me. It’d be easier if we had some of Quentin’s DNA. There’s nothing left of him though.”

 

“Easier doesn’t mean it would be impossible without it, though?” 23 asked, finally speaking up.

 

“Right,” Eliot said thoughtfully, looking at Alice carefully, trying to figure out why she was being so evasive about the whole thing, “We have a lead on some of Q’s blood actually. Plus we have the option of trying to find some living clay and going the golem route, but I’m a little hesitant about that from personal experience.”

 

“It’s just… we keep digging ourselves deeper and deeper into shit, don’t we?” Alice spat out, getting off the couch to pace, “One solution just unearths a thousand more problems, and with heavier prices to pay. Haven’t we all been through enough? When are you guys going to stop, realize that this is just life, find a way to heal and move on from this? Hope to god you remember how to be happy at some point?”

 

“Oh god, Alice, please. I’ve never been happy. If you remember, neither were you. Not before Quentin. We’ve all had miserable fucking lives. This _is_  us trying to be happy. If I’m not focused on this, I don’t exactly have a purpose, I don’t think I’d find a way to be happy,” Eliot said angrily, “I sympathize with your pain, I really do. If this is something that’s beyond your limitations right now, that’s alright. We could use your help, but we won’t force you. Just please don’t stand in our way, not again.”

 

“That’s not _fair_ ,” Alice pleaded, locking eyes with Eliot desperately.

 

“Isn’t it though?” Margo muttered huffily, crossing her arms. Alice petulantly stalked back over to the couch and sat back down, stony faced.

 

“Maybe we need a little more time to heal?” Kady said carefully, looking between Alice and Eliot.

 

“How much more time until he moves on, though?” Julia asks, “There’s no way to know. If we’re going to do this, I think it’s better sooner than later.”

 

“I doubt it’s actually going to be as simple as it looks on paper,” said 23, trying but failing to not look at Julia with concern written all over his face. She returned his look icily, and he continues, “I want to voice a concern, before it’s too late. I’ve seen Coldwater brought back from the dead before, and that ended fucking disastrously.”

 

“He didn’t have a shade, it was completely destroyed,” Julia shakes her head, “This is different. His shade is intact, perfectly healthy.”

 

“Just. Let’s be careful.”

 

“Well then, all hands on deck, right Eliot?”

 

“Right.”

-

_Hours post-Q_

 

When Eliot wakes in the sterile infirmary, the room is empty. It’s a foreboding sign. No Margo, he’s not trying to be bitter or childish, but he wouldn’t have expected her to leave his side. He vaguely understands there’s some end-of-the-world type drama that’s been happening, it’s hard to grasp the full scope of it. No Q, either. His mind feels cotton-like, it’s hard to really grasp thoughts as they pass through. Eliot drifts back into unconsciousness.

 

Next time he floats into a semi-wake, Margo is by his side, stony faced as she fiddles with combing his hair out of his face with her fingers. Things slowly get more focused, he notices Margo’s eyes are puffy, like she’d been crying.

 

“Bambi,” Eliot gets a hoarse whisper out, and a strange type of anguished relief spreads across her face, replacing the worry that was there just a moment ago.

 

“ _Eliot_ ,” she replies gently, cupping his face and rubbing her thumb across his cheekbone, “Oh, god, Eliot…” tears start spilling out of her eyes. Eliot reached up to hold her hand, his movements feel sluggish, limbs heavy like his blood has been replaced with sand.

 

Eliot opens his mouth to say something, hoping the words will just fall out in a way that makes sense, but Margo shakes her head.

 

“The longer I put off having to say this, the harder it’s going to be, okay?” she says, tone serious but pitch soft, “He’s…. he’s gone, El.”

 

The room gets farther and farther away, he can hear blood rushing in his head, he doesn’t feel attached to his own body, in a very different way than it’s felt for the past few months. Margo’s warm doe eyes meet his, sympathetic, full of pain, still leaking tears. He knows Margo would never lie to him about something like that, but he knows it can’t be true, she must have misunderstood something. Signals must have gotten mixed up… there’s no way this can be real. Maybe he’s still unconscious.

 

“No… that’s…” Eliot searches his best friend’s face for even the merest hint of doubt, but he only sees misery, a resigned finality, “Bambi, no.”

 

“Eliot, Quentin died,” Margo’s voice was coming out more and more strained, low and rough and quavering, a sign she was about to lose her composure.

 

Eliot feels himself shattering, all the fight he went through, gone. What he did to save Q from a torturous imprisoned existence only served to bring him to death. He takes shallow, shaky breath after shallow, shaky breath, but he’s running out of oxygen, there’s no air in the room. He feels Margo carefully, oh so carefully, getting into the hospital bed beside him, he holds her like a lifeline.

-

“So, what exactly is the game plan here?”

 

“Storm in, maybe rough the bitch up a little, ask for the blood, make her cooperate if she refuses.”

 

“You’re going to rough her up _then_  ask for her cooperation?”

 

“The order is flexible. I just know I’ve got a lot of pent up anger and if she doesn’t want to play nice, all the better. If we need some royal help, we can always pop by the castle and I can work my frustrations out in a different way.”

 

“…Right,” 23 said, looking like he wished he hadn’t asked, “So who exactly am I taking with me? Besides you.”

 

Margo looked at Eliot automatically, “Eliot.”

 

She didn’t even phrase it as a question. Though Eliot was still on the mend, she seemed determined to have him by her side.

 

“Look, Julia and Kady are looking into the whole river dragon deal, I need back up I can count on. You’ve always been an amazing magician. As long as this asshole is accurate with where we end up-”

 

“Can we keep the insults to a minimum when I’m trying to help?”

 

“I’m literally doing the absolute best I can,” Margo responded dryly before continuing, “I don’t foresee you holding us up. You need this, I know you do.”

 

He couldn’t argue with that. This quest was giving him the only hope he’d had since before he’d been possessed, he knew he would rip the whole world apart if it meant bringing Quentin Coldwater back.

 

“I want to come,” Eliot turned to see Alice had been sitting on the stairs, listening in, almost looking like a child sheepishly awaiting punishment, “I want to do whatever I can, I’m….” she drifted off, hesitating for a second, “I’m really sorry.”

-

_Days Post-Q_

 

It was hard to spare thought for others when he was drowning in his own grief, but it was something he’d registered without actually realizing it. Alice was a ghost in the house, pale and full of haunting sadness. She’d taken to wearing sweats and pulling her hair back, two things Eliot had never seen her do. When they passed each other in the halls, she seemed empty.

 

Eliot had heard from Margo how Quentin had died. Or she told him what she had heard from 23, so one perspective. Eliot had also gotten the run down in all the events that happened while he was in control of his body, it was hard to keep track of the messy story without having been there first hand. Too many b-characters and side plots, difficult to understand what had been important. In short, he was told Quentin had gone to the mirror world to dispose of the Monsters, a power hungry librarian with godly ambitions had stalked them there, broke the portal. Q shot off a spell to fix the mirror, which was apparently a no-no because it would bounce around and kill everything in sight. He’d done it knowingly, and warned 23 ahead of time to get Alice and himself out of there, but Quentin hadn’t made it.

 

Noble sacrifice was Quentin’s thing. This didn’t surprise Eliot, though it brought to mind a warning Margo had given Eliot a lifetime ago.

 

_“So, when it’s be brave, or be smart, you know which one.”_

 

Eliot was sitting on the stairs, not sure how he wound up there, but as it wasn’t laying in bed, he was safe from Margo chastising him. He knew that came from a good place, she was worried about him, he wasn’t mad at her for it. He was just tired. Sitting on the couch wallowing didn’t seem very much different from doing so in bed, except that his misery was on display for everyone to see, instead of hidden neatly away. He got tired of it, so he was trying different perches to see which one offered a fresh perspective on a way to make peace.

 

“I’ve got something to tell you.”

 

Eliot looked over to see Alice standing on the step next to him, she lowered herself to take a seat, looking at him a little apprehensively.

 

“I don’t want it to seem like I’m heaping this onto you to be spiteful,” she told him, staring into his eyes with a strength he had yet to feel. She seemed sincere and focused, like she was experiencing a moment of clarity through the haze the trauma had brought on, “But I won’t feel like I’m being honest about what happened until I tell someone else. You deserve to know.”

 

“Alice, what’s wrong?” he felt like her matter-of-fact tone was cutting through the twilight state he’d been existing in, a breath of fresh air.

 

“Quentin didn’t try to leave the room after casting the spell,” she told him, a little shaky now, “He stood there and let it…he didn’t even  _try_.”

 

Eliot understood why Alice wanted to clarify this. It must feel horrifically suffocating to hear Quentin was the hero who couldn’t make it out in time when that wasn’t the whole story. Quentin was the hero who had struggled with just getting out of bed some days, Quentin was the hero who had struggled to find hope, while constantly trying to provide it to others. Quentin was the hero, but it was complicated.

 

Eliot took a breath, furrowing his brow and trying to find the right words to respond to this. “Alice, I’m sorry-”

 

“Don’t worry about it,” she said quickly, getting up and brushing herself off unnecessarily, briskly walking down the rest of the stairs and putting as much distance between herself and this moment of raw vulnerability as she could.

 

-

 

Eliot nodded kindly, holding his hand out to Alice, she looked confused but took it anyway, descending the few steps as Eliot gently tugged her down, before wrapping her into a hug, a little awkward since he was leaning on the cane.

 

“We’re all still working on some personality defects,” he whispered into her hair, feeling her start to cry a little, still being careful not to hurt him. Eliot wondered how long it’d been since anyone had offered Alice a hug, probably not since Q, “I understand.”

 

Eliot heard Margo and 23 shuffle out of the room, leaving them standing there, who knows how long. He kissed the top of her head softly and she sniffled a bit, stepping back to wipe her eyes, still keeping her arm on him so he could lean on her if need be.

 

“I _am_  sorry Eliot, I know it probably seems like I have no right… in comparison…” Eliot shook his head and squeezed her shoulder.

 

“I don’t think we get to monopolize grief like that. We both loved him, he loved both of us. None of it is fair. Time I had, time you didn’t have, I don’t think it’s made it easier for either of us, do you?”

 

“No,” Alice answered, more tears spilling out of her eyes, “You’re right, you’re right. I don’t know how any of this is going to work out. I just need him to be alive, you know?”

 

“I do, Alice, I really do. If you’re up for this, I think we really could use you on our team,” Eliot said sincerely “And, for what it’s worth, I’m sorry, too. I was never fair to you.”

 

“Personality defects, right?” Alice replied, “I never made it that easy, anyway.”

 

“Alright, you two,” Margo called, her patience apparently reaching its end, “This has been a truly touching heart-to-heart, but we’ve got shit to do. Let’s get moving.”

 

Alice wrapped her arm around Eliot’s waist, tip-toeing up to softly kiss him on the cheek, then helped him over to the common room where Margo and 23 were waiting.

 

“Come here, both of you,” Margo sighed, closing the distance and wrapping her arms as far as she could around the pair of them, “I’m also sorry, so now we’ve all said it.”

 

Margo kissed them both then waved 23 over, “Come on already, he’s got a fucking cane, don’t make him walk anymore than he has to!”

 

“I’m not giving anyone a goddamn hug.”

 

“Good.”

 

They blipped into the forest, approximating from what vague admission Quentin gave them, what distance they think his desperation would have brought him to cover, and Eliot and Margo’s own knowledge of the land they’d once ruled. It was thick and brightly green forest everywhere Eliot could see.

 

“You guys see anything?” Alice asked, brow furrowed as she looked around her.

 

“Maybe,” Margo responded, covering her human eye for a moment, then pointing forward from her point of view, “I think there’s something over here.”

 

“Does it see better?”

 

“For some things, like magic. Others it’s just… weird. But, I’ll bet that lady is cooking some weird shit up so I’m following the strongest signal I’m getting on this thing.”

 

“That tracks,” 23 agrees, then offers Eliot his arm to lean on as they head off in the direction Margo pointed.

-

When they came up on the witch’s cottage, it worked out that she was tending to her garden, making it clear that Margo’s instincts and her fairy eye were invaluable.

 

“I thought I might be seeing you again,” the witch said, giving them a quick once over before turning back to tending her garden, “Thought it might be sooner. I’m afraid I didn’t catch your names last time.”

 

“Enough with the mystical bullshit,” Margo snapped impatiently, “We’re here for something.”

 

“Undoubtedly,” she replied blandly, wiping her hands off on her skirt and straightening up, “There’s something different about you,” she pointed at 23, “and it’s not just your hands.”

 

“Yeah, he’s not actually who you think he is,” Margo cut in again, “I really don’t have time for this nonsense. You took some of our friend’s blood, you didn’t pay for it, we need it.”

 

“He wasted my time.”

 

“And you’re wasting ours. What’s the price lady?”

 

The witch squinted suspiciously at 23, then turned back to her cottage waving for them to follow suit. They all gave each other wary looks before cautiously doing so. Inside was a cozy and well-kept living space, the woman was busying herself in a small rustic kitchen, and called for them to make themselves comfortable at the wooden table. She carried a tray of small pies back to the table and set it down.

 

“Let’s make this a civilized conversation.”

 

“Uh, yeah, where we’re from, bartering for a friend’s blood doesn’t really fall under the above category,” Eliot replied.

 

“You’re not doing yourself any favors with that attitude. Eat,” she pushed the tray, which no one reached for.

 

“Yeah, we’re good, actually,” 23 said firmly.

 

“You children of earth are far too cautious when it comes to completely innocuous matters, and complete fools when it’s important,” she told them matter of factly, and took one of the pastries herself, “I dare say it’s your downfall.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, this ass-backwards rock is clearly superior, can we cut to the part where we actually hash this out?” Margo asked, growing testy at the lack of progress.

 

“Is an even trade for another’s blood enough?” Alice spoke up, “Are you looking for something else?”

 

“Are you offering _your_  blood, missy? Don’t offer something you’re unwilling to provide.”

 

“Here’s what we’ve got, lady. Four righteously pissed off magicians, with ties to royalty,” Margo interjected, “You’ve got something we want. We can negotiate civilly, which only works if you tell us what it is you want without all this air of mystery evasive nonsense.”

 

“Well, that’s not everything is it?” the woman asked, finally seeming to let up and level with them an inch, “Your friend is dead. One of you used to be a niffin, and is wearing a rebuilt body. One of you has blood worthy of a king, though the kingship was stripped from him, then he was possessed by something more powerful than a god. One of you is a traveler, and not from this time. And one of you is wearing a fairy eye. Gold, blood, bone, body parts. All such tempting trinkets, all for a dead man’s blood.”

 

“Jesus fucking Christ, lady, could you try to be a little less ominous?” Margo retorted, “If you know he’s dead, what’s it worth to you?”

 

“I’ll give you the blood. Price to be collected at a later date.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’m not saying ‘bring me along on your family vacation to the Underworld’, I’m saying I can help. Specifically when it comes to dragons.”

-

“Did that seem a little too easy to anyone else?” Eliot questioned when they were back at the Physical Cottage. It felt weird, to have something that they’d been ready to fight for over with, yet in such an open-ended way.

 

“Yes, but she gave us the blood, and we’re sure it’s his,” Margo said, “I would have liked a fight, but all in all it is better this way, I guess.”

 

“You don’t like being in debt.”

 

“To put it mildly, I really fucking hate it.”

 

It had taken Margo a great deal of personal strength to walk out of that witch’s house without yelling, or throwing a rogue spell, or burning the whole damn thing to the ground. Eliot watched the struggle on her face the whole way out, she seemed to hold tightly to his hand to make sure she couldn’t be tempted.

 

“I’m just saying we could have blown the bitch up after she gave us the blood. I know that’s a little morally grey for us, but it really would have made me feel a lot better about this ambiguous price to pay looming over our damn heads.”

 

“Now morally grey _is_  putting it mildly,” Eliot replied, but with a fond smile on his face.

 

Julia and Kady walked into the Cottage, followed closely by a red-headed woman, carrying a baby. Eliot vaguely remembered her, but wasn’t quite sure where exactly she fell in terms of good or bad graces. Margo looked at him, giving the same air of confusion at who exactly this was and why she was here.

 

“ _Poppy?_ " Alice asked incredulously, snapping the girl back into focus for him. Poppy Kline, Josh’s year. Screwed Q over with the depression key, _screwed_ Q, shows up whenever dragons are involved, “What the hell?”

 

Kady shook her head and pursed her lips, clearly already on the edge of her patience with the tagalong. Julia looked grim, and Poppy, surprisingly, looked appropriately solemn.

 

“I’m only here to offer condolences. And…” she trailed off for a second, looking at the two women she’d entered the Cottage with, “My help, if you’ll have it.”

 

“Do you actually know what you’re offering to help with?” Alice demanded, annoyed, “Because it kinda seems like you’ve got other priorities that require your full attention.”

 

“I get that,” Poppy answered, “And I understand that I’m unreliable, and selfish, and unpredictable, and a liar. I’m not making excuses or apologizing, don’t get me wrong. But, Quentin was supposed to be her godfather, and I think I owe _her_ that, at least.”

 

“Okay,” Margo said slowly, “Okay, but you realize this is still recklessly endangering yourself. Isn’t that exactly what a parent shouldn’t be doing?”

 

“I’m not saying ‘bring me along on your family vacation to the Underworld’, I’m saying I can help. Specifically when it comes to dragons.”

 

Eliot furrowed his brow, looking between Julia and Kady for some sort of explanation. Kady rolled her eyes and let out a sigh.

 

“She was sitting at the herald’s desk when we got to the East River,” she offered for explanation, “Said she might be able to get her to cooperate.”

 

“What happened to Harold?” asked 23.

 

“Well, I figured I could use a desk job now that I’m a new mother,” Poppy put simply, “Might as well be in my field of interest. It pays well, and I’m sure Harold is relieved to get a little… time off.”

 

“Seems appropriately menacing and on brand,” Eliot quipped, “So what does the dragon _want?"_

 

“Well, treasure mostly, that’s kinda what dragons are all about. Hoarding items of value and all that,” Poppy said slowly like she was explaining the obvious. To be fair, she was, if a little unnecessarily, “Rumor has it, someone here is in possession of some extremely rare axes that expel possession?”

 

Margo stiffened visibly, crossing her arms and scowling, “How exactly did word get out about that?”

 

“I’ll take that as an affirmative,” Poppy said happily in lieu of answering, “And on behalf of the East River dragon, I’d relay that that’s an acceptable price to provide safe passage to and from the Underworld.”

 

Margo looks unhappy, but she nods, accepting the price to get Quentin back.

 

“Wait,” Julia says, “I’ve done this before, are we under time constraints?”

 

“Traditionally, 24 hours is standard. Not just because dragons are impatient, but because after that it gets unlikely the soul will make it back to the body at all, and preserving a body that a soul can’t return to is a waste and impractical. Better to just lay you to rest,” Poppy explained, “But I think I can negotiate for 36 hours.”

 

“Thank you.”

-

Despite Poppy’s tendency to hang around where she wasn’t invited, she didn’t want to spend much longer at the Cottage than she had to. Grief and loss weren’t something she quite had the character to deal with. Once she’d taken her leave, they got down to the business of building Quentin’s body.

 

“I don’t mean to contradict any of the work we’ve done so far, and I may not have classical education, but aren’t there summonings we could do? Especially if we have his blood? That way we don’t have to go to the Underworld?” Julia asks, as they lay out a table to prepare the spells.

 

Alice and Kady exchanged stricken looks, and Eliot was reminded of their first week of school. That incident feels as though it was so very long ago, a whole other lifetime.

 

“Summonings are… risky at best,” Kady explained, putting a hand on Julia’s shoulder. Julia leans into the touch, and Eliot noticed 23 twisted his mouth a bit at the innocent enough gesture, “You can never be sure what’s going to answer, not for sure. If we built Quentin’s body, then summoned something else into it, we’d have to get rid of that, then find a way to get Quentin again. This is the closest we have to fool-proof.”

 

“Taking Quentin by the hand and bringing him back leaves so much less to chance than making a phone call, so to speak, and hoping he picks up,” Alice reaffirmed.

 

“Got it,” Julia said, “No summonings. So, are we trying bone knitting again?”

 

“I think there’s an easier way. When I was trying to build Penny’s body, he’d been basically cremated, there was nothing usable left of him. Bone knitting is a difficult process, and we only have memories and pictures to model it off of. Quentin’s blood remembers the body that it used to belong in, if that makes sense. It’s kind of like what Mayakovsky and Q used to rebuild a body for me, but instead of using a shade and a niffin to make the mold, we’re using blood. We provide the raw materials, and the blood tells them what shape to take.”

 

“Right.”

 

Alice started flipping through texts, making out a list of things they needed. Julia lay out bowls to measure out ingredients they already had. Margo took Eliot by the elbow and led him out of the dining room that always seemed to serve as a workspace as opposed to a formal eating area and towards the common room.

 

“You look pale, El,” she said as he sat down on the couch. Before taking a seat, he hadn’t realized just how worn out he was getting.

 

“I don’t think I’ve actually done that much since before the hospital,” Eliot said apologetically, his voice sounded wearier than he expected.

 

“I’ll get you a drink,” Margo told him, pressing a kiss into the top of his head and exiting the room. Whether Margo returned with that drink or not, Eliot wasn’t sure. The day caught up to him all at once, and he slipped into a heavy sleep.

-

It started with a familiar memory…

 

_ “So, uh, in the books, time doesn’t exactly run the same speed on Earth as in Fillory,” Eliot stated, putting his fears into words without actually saying ‘everyone I love is leaving and I’m terrified I’m going to grow old and die in this fantasy hell scape without ever seeing any of them again’. _

 

_ “I mean, look, sometimes it got screwy when Jane and Martin would go back and forth.” _

 

_ “But not always.” _

 

_ “It’s gonna be fine,” Quentin said, seemingly to reassure both himself and Eliot. _

 

_ “Yeah,” Eliot replied, nervously nodding his head, “Or I’ll just live out my days waiting for my friends to return and die alone.” _

 

_ There goes that. He and Quentin were sitting close, shoulders pressed against each other, and it felt nice, the reassuring warmth that his friend was still there in this moment, not gone yet. _

 

_ “You know it’s considered extremely disrespectful to touch a king without permission,” he saw Q look down at their shoulders and shift away slightly, afraid that El was insinuating he shouldn’t make any physical contact, “But, um… I think you should… probably hug me. Right now.” _

 

_ Q immediately wrapped Eliot into a tight hug, and Eliot took the opportunity to take a deep breath with his face pressed into the other boy’s shoulder, trying to commit every part of this moment to memory including the way Quentin smelled. _

 

_ “It’d also be okay if you just give my ass, like, a little squeeze.” _

 

_Quentin let out a few snorts of laughter, gripping Eliot even tighter._

 

And gripping Eliot even tighter, his fingers digging into Eliot almost painfully, clutching onto him as if loosening the grip would mean certain death.

 

“Q… Q? Quentin let up a little, I-“

 

“Eliot listen to me, please, you have to listen,” Q said frantically into Eliot’s ear, his breath warm, “I don’t have very long, I’m so sorry.”

 

“Q?” What he was saying didn’t match up with what was happening, Quentin was only leaving Fillory for a bit, he’d be back. They had time, it wasn’t that urgent. That’s what Quentin had been reassuring him of, anyway.

 

“Come on, Eliot, this is a memory, you need to catch up. What you guys are doing can work, but I can only wait for so much longer. Penny is doing everything he can down here. Please, I want to come back to you.”

 

Quentin leaned back from the embrace, still gripping onto Eliot by the shoulders, trying to resist a force that seemed to be pulling him away. Eliot blinked rapidly, registered Quentin’s shorter hair, the black hoodie. The desperation on his face. Eliot tried to understand what was happening as darkness started closing in around the scene.

 

“ _Quentin_ ,” Eliot breathed out, reality catching up in an instant, while all his surroundings were growing fuzzy, “Wait, no, Q please-”

 

“ _I love you_ ,” despite the distance that was stretching out, the sentence seemed to be spoken right into Eliot’s ear, “I love you, and I’m sorry, Eliot. Tell the others I love them, too.” 

- 

Eliot took in a gasping breath, feeling like a drowned man who’d been resuscitated. The common room was empty and dark, someone had thrown a blanket over him, and tucked a pillow under his head. Eliot sat up, placing a hand to his shoulder where Quentin had held on so tightly in the dream…

 

Was it a dream?

 

“Margo!” Eliot shouted through the silent house, not even thinking to be wary of other’s sleeping. He needed a rational mind to run this by, before it slipped away. He heard Margo bang her door open and hurry down the stairs urgently.

 

“El, hon, are you okay?” she rushed over to him, clicking the lights on and checking him over, “Was it another dream?”

 

“I… I don’t know?” Eliot said slowly, looking into her worried brown eyes, “I’m fine, I just. Well, it _was_ a dream…”

 

He launched into an explanation of what he saw in his sleep, and Margo’s expression became inscrutable.

 

“I could _feel_ him, Margo, it was like he was holding onto me so he wouldn’t go back.”

 

Margo nodded, reaching over to unbutton his shirt, and pulled the collar back over his shoulder, exposing angry red finger prints that were starting to bruise a bit.

 

“Looks like our boy wants to come home,” she said quietly, rubbing over the marks with her thumb. Her eyes started sparkling a bit, as if she was tearing up, but no tears spilled over. As opposed to Eliot, who was openly weeping at the sight of this proof. Proof Quentin was fighting, that he was waiting for them. That Penny was playing a part to help him out. That they might actually accomplish what it is they set out to do here.

 

“He said he loves you,” Eliot told Margo, reaching over to cover her hand with his, giving it a gentle squeeze.

 

“Yeah, well, I love his dumb ass, too,” she replied, “That little shit really snuck his way into my heart, and I’ll never forgive him for that.”

 

Margo pulled back, checking the time.

 

“Well, it’s four in the morning, I think we’ve wasted enough of the day. Time to rally the troops, we’ve got our work cut out for us.”

 

“Bambi, I don’t think-”

 

“ALRIGHT, YOU LAZY ASSHOLES, WE’VE GOT A BODY TO BUILD AND A DEAD MAN TO RESCUE FROM THE UNDERWORLD. LET’S GET A MOVE ON, ALREADY!” Margo yelled out, fingers elegantly working to perform a spell that would turn on all the lights in the house.

 

Julia and Kady were the first to descend the staircase, looking bleary-eyed and rumpled. Julia’s oversized shirt was on backwards, and her fingers were laced through Kady’s, who’d pulled her long curls out of her face in a messy bun and was looking distinctly murderous at being woken up at such an ungodly hour. Eliot added this to 23’s sour expression at the touch they’d shared yesterday and came to a conclusion that they’d worked through their complicated history. Good for them.

 

“What the hell?” Kady growled at Margo, who had stood up and took a stance, looking ready to make a speech.

 

“We have some new information,” Margo put simply, waiting for the other two to join them before explaining further. It didn’t take long for Alice to come downstairs, eyes puffy and hair slightly disheveled. 23 took his time, not bothering to put on a shirt and skulking in a corner, putting distance between himself and where Julia and Kady stood together.

 

“Eliot received word from Quentin. He and Penny are trying to make time for our plan to work, but we have to hurry. We don’t know what kind of time crunch we’re under exactly, but there was definitely a sense of urgency to the message.”

 

“Wait… what?” Alice looked as if she’d had the wind knocked out of her, and heavily sat on the couch next to Eliot, “How…”

 

“Well, we don’t know how he did it, but he was able to briefly communicate,” Margo replied, “I know it sounds-“

 

“Sounds like wishful thinking,” 23 supplied, looking even more annoyed to have his sleep disrupted.

 

Eliot pulled his shirt aside, showing the purpling bruises off, “It wasn’t.”

 

Alice hesitantly put her hand up to the bruises, just ghosting over the surface, afraid to touch them.

 

“Jane Chatwin once burned a symbol into Q’s hand through a dream,” she whispered, barely audible, “She was still alive, but… that’s what brought us together in the first place.”

 

“He wanted everyone to know he loves them.”

 

“So, we’ve got work to do,” Julia said, squaring her shoulders, “Alice, how much of what we need is at Brakebills and how much do we need to find other places?”

 

“Everything should either be here or at Brakebills South,” Alice answered, snapping away from Eliot and standing back up, “Give me a minute to get dressed, 23 can you-”

 

“I’ll go with him, Alice, don’t worry about it,” Julia said, giving 23 a stern look, which he responded to by sighing and heading back up the stairs.

 

“Jules-” Kady started, looking wearily at the girl standing next to her.

 

“I just need to talk to him, it’s fine,” Julia responded, leaning over to Kady to press a soft kiss to her cheek, before turning towards the staircase and heading up, presumably to get changed.

 

“Let’s get to it then,” Margo clapped her hands together, fire in her eyes, and a spark in her reignited.


	4. Kady and Julia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Kady, I want to kiss you right now,” Julia said, determination and certainty strong in her voice.
> 
>  
> 
> “You…?” Kady was completely out of her depth, at a loss for words entirely, thinking she must be hearing things.
> 
>  
> 
> “Yeah, I want to kiss you,” Julia repeated firmly, “Just giving you fair warning.”
> 
> -
> 
> a little bit of a rehash, mostly everything so far from Kady's POV

_Hours post-Q_

 

Kady sought out Julia as soon as she heard. It was barely even thought, it was instinct, it was reflex. _Go see Julia, go be there for her_. All the time since they’d been together, all the bad blood between them. Kady had to just at least be present.

 

She saw 23 waiting in the hallway, looking like a kicked dog. He looked up at her from where he was sitting on the floor.

 

“Julia?” he asked her, Kady nodded, “You heard…?”

 

“About Quentin? Yeah,” Kady answered, “Is she…?”

 

23 shrugged, dragging a hand down over his face, “I think she wants to be alone.”

 

“Fuck that,” Kady stepped past him, opening the door, “Julia?”

 

Julia was crumpled on the bed, eyes swollen from crying, hugging a pillow close to her chest. She looked up at Kady, tears still silently streaming down her face.

 

“Close the door,” she croaked out, voice cracking. Kady obliged, then went over to the bed, carefully sitting on the edge. Remembering a time when Julia held her after Penny…

 

Kady reached out, brushing hair back from Julia’s face. Julia responded by scooting over to Kady, pulling her down so Julia could curl into her. Kady allowed herself to be molded into whatever shape Julia needed her to take, let Julia lay her head on her chest, curl her arm around her waist, just combing her fingers through the other woman’s hair as she mourned her friend. It was hard to say how long it was they lay like that, Kady just letting Julia cry until there was nothing left.

 

“Thanks,” Julia finally whispered.

 

“For what?”

 

“Being here. I… I should have been there for-”

 

“You _were_ , there was just so much else going on, Julia, I don’t blame you for anything about what happened with Penny.”

 

“I just want you to know, you deserve better than what was thrown at you,” Julia said solemnly, tilting her head up to look into Kady’s eyes, “And I’m grateful. You never owed me anything, but you’re always here when I need you most.”

 

“Yeah, well…” Kady started, instinct kicking in, trying to brush off the sincerity, trying to further the gap that time and pain had created between the two of them, to protect herself, then fighting past that urge, knowing distance isn’t what brought her here, “I know what it’s like to need to lean on someone. And caring about someone isn’t about who owes who what. Or, it shouldn’t be, anyway. I care about you, I want you to know that.”

-

Kady remembered vividly the first time she saw Julia after her mother died. Stepping off the subway platform, through the portal Richard had created, into the unfamiliar apartment, to see Julia standing there. Though Kady had been working to control her emotions, let go of blame and rage and put that energy towards something good, it was still painful, it still sparked anger. At a more raw and emotionally volatile state, it could have been dangerous. But, after the initial discomfort, they clicked surprisingly well, and had good chemistry for spell casting.

 

It had made _sense_  for them to run errands together, to follow leads together, they had a natural balance, a cadence. It was comfortable and it became more than comfortable, turned to long nights discussing theories and bouncing ideas off each other, becoming something intimate and beautiful. Kady had never had something so honest, never had someone know off the bat who she was and where she came from. The refreshing thing about Julia is she didn’t have a hint of pity for her, she didn’t look down on Kady for any of her circumstances.

 

“We all get dealt our own uniquely shitty hand, it only matters how we play it,” she told Kady one night, as they were laying in bed, facing one another and baring their souls, Julia tracing her fingers softly across Kady’s collar bone.

 

“Sounds like some poetic bullshit,” Kady quipped with a smirk.

 

“What can I say, ex-Ivy girls are poetic bullshit artists,” Julia retorted, her flashing smile bright and stunning, “I feel like you should know that before you get too far into this.”

 

“Oh, well, I mean if that’s supposed to be a warning, you’re a little late on that,” Kady said with a chuckle, using her hand that was resting on the small of Julia’s back to pull her closer, closing the distance in between them, pressing a laughter filled kiss to Julia’s lips, who returned it enthusiastically. The laughter and kisses deepened, drifting them off into that particular long night.

 

But tragedy struck, too soon and they were barely together before they were ripped apart. Violent and bloody and cruel. To be honest in a melodramatic kind of way, those were the kind of endings Kady was intimately familiar with.

 

After Reynard, Kady fell off, and Julia found her. Pulled her out of her hole, reminded her of what it was to not just cope with trauma in a self destructive way, to find a purpose and something to do, to strive for.

 

They learned to be together again in the aftermath, until Julia lost her shade. It broke Kady’s heart, she felt guilty knowing that came from Kady trying to help her, she saw the destruction and hurt that was being caused from the lack of empathy and moral compass. Maybe that's why she worked so damn hard to try to ignore the severity, trying to clean up the mess before it go too bad. She wasn't very successful.

 

“ _That’s not Julia. Even she knows that. The only one who doesn’t seem to know that is you._ “

-

Kady blinked awake the next morning to find her and Julia laying in that painfully familiar position, both still in their clothes from the day before, but curled up in each other. She didn’t mean for all the memories to come flooding back, it made her feel a little uncomfortable. The gesture of being here seemed innocent, but given their past, she didn’t want to seem like she was taking advantage of Julia’s grief to get back something long lost.

 

She tried to extricate herself from Julia’s limbs wrapped around her with out waking the other woman, but was unsuccessful. Julia seemed to snap awake as soon as Kady moved.

 

“Hey,” she said, taking in the way the they were tangled together slowly. She seemed a little hollowed out, deflated.

 

“Hey,” Kady replied softly, “I-”

 

“Sorry,” Julia pulled herself away, combing her long hair out of her face with her fingers, “I guess I was a little…”

 

“You’re allowed to be,” Kady told her, almost reaching out again before stopping herself, “You’re allowed to grieve however you need to, Jules.”

 

Julia nodded, rolling away from Kady, “You can leave, if you want to. I mean, I assume that’s what you were doing, it’s alright Kady. I can be alone for a bit.”

 

“Do you want to be alone?”

 

“Do _you_?”

 

“I…” Kady hesitated, trying to figure out the right way to put things. How much was being here for Julia and how much was being opportunistic. She couldn’t deny she missed Julia, not necessarily in _that_ way, but just spending time together.

 

“Just spit it out, Kady, it’s fine,” Julia sat up, looking Kady right in the eye, “I’m hurting but I don’t need you to walk on eggshells around me. I get that it’s weird, I get that we’ve had our problems. If you don’t want to be here I don’t want you to fake it to spare me.”

 

“I’m not trying to spare you, Julia, I’m trying to not overstep any boundaries because I’m not sure where they _are_. I want to be here for you, but I don’t want to be some creepy ex trying to shadow your every move in hopes I’m there in a vulnerable moment.”

 

“Ouch,” Julia said, arching an eyebrow, “That was a little pointed.”

 

“I know,” Kady sighed, “Sorry, you don't need that right now. It’s just all…weird.”

 

“It is,” she agreed, reaching her hand out to grasp Kady’s, giving it a quick squeeze, “I think I do need to be alone for a little bit though, okay?”

 

“Yeah, whatever you need.”

-

A few days later, Kady heard a soft knock at her door. Kady opened it to see Julia standing there in an over-sized sweatshirt, hair pulled into a bun, face still drawn but seeming to have a purpose.

 

“Can I come in?” Julia asked, and Kady nodded, opening her door wider to let her in.

 

Julia and Kady had seen each other since the day Q had passed, they _were_  living in the same house after all. There had been the memorial at the fire, Julia had leaned on Kady for comfort, Kady had held Julia’s hand, but left her alone when she’d mentioned wanting to sit by herself for a bit afterwards. It was a balance that came with physical clues and speaking words to needs. Communication, a truly novel idea.

 

“I heard about what you learned about the Library,” Julia said once Kady had closed the door again. Kady crossed her arms defensively on instinct.

 

“Can you elaborate? They’ve done a whole fucking lot.”

 

“That there was a cure,” Julia’s tone didn’t even change in response to Kady’s attitude, “That they just left Penny to die.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“You didn’t say anything.”

 

“You were going through enough without me heaping some bullshit on top of it,” Kady shrugged, and stalked over to the chair sitting in the corner of her room, putting physical space between herself and the words Julia was saying, “Everyone was. I didn’t need to add to it.”

 

Julia sat delicately on the foot of Kady’s bed, facing the other girl, “It’s not fair to-“

 

“Since when has anything that’s happened to any of us been fair?” Kady practically shouted, “Quentin, Penny, every other person who’s died, or been hurt? Richard, Silver, Menoly, Bender? My mother? It’s all fucking unfair, all of it. I can’t sit her and talk about it anymore, it’s killing me.”

 

Julia nodded, getting back up just as quickly, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you Kady.”

 

She exited the room, leaving Kady reeling from the pain of remembering.

-

Kady found Julia later that day, sitting out on the patio, holding a smoking cigarette and staring out at the lawn.

 

“I thought you’d quit?” Kady asked, sitting on the lounge chair facing the ledge Julia had perched herself on.

 

“I did,” Julia answered, looking down at the cigarette resting between her fingers, “I’m just seeing what coping methods work. Turns out I can’t even bring myself to take a drag.”

 

Kady nodded, taking a breath, steeling herself.

 

“I’m sorry for blowing up before, Jules.”

 

Julia finally turned her head to look at Kady, stubbing the cigarette out on the stone ledge beside her, then tucked a stray piece of hair behind her own ear.

 

“You don’t have to apologize, Kady. I was sticking my nose where it didn’t belong. You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. Just know that you’re allowed to still be raw, also.”

 

“It’s been a little while since he died.”

 

“Yeah, but you’re still learning the details, and that kinda reopens the wound, doesn’t it.”

 

Kady shrugged, then let herself be vulnerable, nodding and crumpling forward, pulling her hair back from her face and feeling a little winded at the memory. She heard Julia get down from her perch, felt her sit beside her, not touching her, just being a solid presence by Kady’s side.

 

“It’s fucked up.”

 

“They don’t even truly acknowledge the reality of what they’ve done, the magnitude of how fucked up it is,” Kady replied miserably, “They’ve caused so much death on so many sides. I just want to burn the whole thing to the ground. Fuck knowledge.”

 

“Knowledge at the cost of morality is some heavy bullshit.”

 

Kady leaned against Julia, who readily wrapped an arm around her. Kady didn’t have any tears to cry, but just having the whole thing acknowledged felt like a release, to have it seen by another person as an injustice. Not to have Zelda’s hollow apologies and meaningless justifications and excuses for having sentenced a grad student to death, for the Library killing hedge witches, killing fairies. Who knows what else this so called benevolent organization that supposedly only seeked to protect knowledge had been responsible for on its power-hungry quest. Julia let Kady rant herself hoarse about everything the Library had done, everything they deserved in return.

-

It wasn’t an easy time in the Cottage. Everyone was still stunned in the aftermath of Quentin’s death, it left a palpable heaviness in the air. Julia would have really bad days, completely out of it and disjointed from the present, seeming to only operate in snatches of memory of both good and bad times she’d had with Q. Her and Eliot would sit listlessly in the common room for hours at a time, sharing a kinship in the missing hole in their lives that was Quentin. Kady only knew a little about Eliot and Quentin’s friendship, or relationship. She could understand it was complicated. But, what wasn’t these days.

 

Kady would flit in and out during the day, keeping up appearances in the city with the hedge witches, keeping peace and order, not being overbearing but settling what disputes needed her input, providing safe information to people in need of resources. It kept her busy and gave her a purpose, but allowed her to be flexible. She could take time to keep house in the city and also at the Cottage, as her and Margo were the only ones who were fully functioning.

 

And 23, Kady supposed, though he was more solemn these days, quieter. He’d help out when needed though, which was nice, but Kady still felt a little rough around the edges about him. They had reached their place of peace in the past, but it was hard not to resent him for taking an important choice away from Julia. Kady knew Julia would say it’s not her place to be angry, and Kady was working to not let her see too much of how she felt about it, because that was just another load on the heap of shit she was buried under. After all that Julia had been through, having someone take something as precious as the decision of what to do with her own body… Kady couldn’t dwell on it without her blood boiling. It didn’t really matter to her that Julia was able to perform magic again in the aftermath. Well, it _mattered_ , but not in the way that would redeem 23 to her.

 

Most nights at some point Julia would come to her room, asking to just spend some time in the same space. She’d curl up on the bed and watch Kady go through papers, supply lists and spells and maps of safe houses and the like, sometimes asking a question or two, but for the most part just treating it like a retreat from the depressing atmosphere that hung around. If she fell asleep before Kady was finished for the night, Kady wasn’t going to wake her and force her out, Kady would throw a blanket over her and allow her space. If she was still awake, she mostly chose to go back to her own room, only every once in a while she would stay.

 

The nights Julia stayed, Kady was likely to wake up in the nightnext to Julia crying at some point. Kady could only comfort her so much. Be a shoulder to cry on.

 

One morning she woke up to Julia gone, the throw blanket she draped across her dropped on the floor, and the door to Kady’s room cracked open. Curious, because Julia had the tendency to stay in bed until Kady gently suggested she get up and get something to eat, or wash up, or sit out in the common room. Kady knocked on Julia’s door softly.

 

“Come in,” Julia answered, sounding a little harried, a little impatient. Kady let herself in and saw Julia frantically scribbling notes on a thick packet of papers being held together by a red binder clip.

 

“What’s up?” Kady asked from the doorframe, and Julia actually looked up from her focused notes.

 

“I’m fixing some of Margo’s notes.”

 

“Her… notes? I mean it’s never too late to go back to school I guess, but I guess after all we’ve been through I _am_  a little surprised Margo of all people-”

 

Julia actually cracked a small smile, which caught Kady completely off guard, and she felt her heart flutter a little in an infuriatingly infatuated way, “No, sorry, I didn’t mean school notes. I… well I think she wanted to tell everyone, it’s kind of big. She wants everyone to gather in the common room once they’re up.”

 

“Sure, I guess,” Kady said, still feeling kind of out of sorts from her irrational response to something as small as a smile. She hadn’t realized how long it had been since she saw Jules smile, let alone smile _at her_.

 

“I’ll meet you down there.”

 

“Okay,” Kady turned out of the room and almost ran right into 23 as she was closing the door and heading towards the staircase.

 

“Hi,” he said flatly, “Is Julia in there?”

 

“Yeah,” she answered, working to keep her tone light, “She’s about to go downstairs, Margo’s holding some sort of meeting for everyone apparently but if you want…?”

 

Kady stepped away, gesturing towards the door, before turning again to the stairs. 23 took her by surprise by following her down instead of knocking on Julia’s door.

 

“A meeting?”

 

“Honestly, that’s all I know about it, Julia literally just told me about it.”

 

“Well, has anyone told _her_?” 23 asked meaningfully. Alice. Kady internally swore at herself, feeling guilty about the girl. Kady had no idea if she’d even really talked much to anyone, she was barely in sight, mostly holed up in her room. The ghost in the house.

 

“As far as I know, no, but-”

 

“I’m on it,” he said, turning back up the stairs. Kady shrugged it off and walked into the living room, to see Margo and Eliot already in there, discussing something in low tones. It was the most animated Kady had seen Eliot since he got his body back, so it seemed that whatever was being discussed was bringing the general mood up. Kady had an inkling about what it could be. She only hoped whatever scheme they were cooking up it wasn’t _completely_ hare-brained. Margo, caught sight of her and rose from the couch, giving Kady a nod.

 

“Julia asked you to come down?” she asked, obviously knowing the answer, more as a way of greeting than as an actual question, but Kady still found herself nodding, “Good, we’ve got to get moving on this. 23 and Alice?”

 

“We’re here,” 23 said, followed by an even-paler-than-usual Alice, looking a bit apprehensive and solemn and somehow delicate, like the wrong word was going to shatter the small facade of pulling herself together she’d been able to gather. Kady leaned against a wall at the back of the room, facing where Margo was standing poised and ready to grace them with whatever she must have been working on these past couple weeks.

 

Julia was the last to come into the common room, carrying the written over packet that had been neatly clipped back together, a pen stuck behind her ear endearingly. She muttered a quick apology and sat on the couch, between Alice and Eliot.

 

“Alright, listen up, this is important. Quentin may not be alive but here’s the thing, I saw him and Penny- _our_  Penny,” she added, glancing quickly a 23, “at the fire.”

 

Kady felt shock stab through her chest, completely taken off-guard.

 

“ _What_?” she burst out, feeling herself push off from the wall she’d been leaning on, “I’m sorry, but what does that mean.”

 

Her mind was racing, if Penny could come up here, what did that mean?

“This eyeball doesn’t exactly come with a how-to manual, or a guidebook,” Margo snapped at her, “All I know is, when I got to the fire, my fairy eye could see two figures, and I somehow knew it was Quentin and Penny. It seemed like Penny was leading Q, I’m guessing acting in some sort of official capacity for the Underworld Library.”

“And just now is when you decided that was pertinent information?” Kady was angry, confused. The shock was sending her emotions into a frenzy, “Not, I don’t know, two weeks ago when you _saw_ it?”

“It was kind of a difficult fucking time for all of us,” the other girl was getting fired up now as well, and Kady could see she didn’t appreciate her big reveal being met this way, “I’m sure you can understand. It’d been a long couple of months, and before that another long couple of months. I was trying to see if I could find any kind of information about any of this before I stirred some shitty false hope for any of us, only for it to come to nothing. I don’t think anyone was in the kind of head space that would allow that.”

“Fine,” Kady gritted out, conceding that was a fair enough point, “Then what did you find?”

 

Margo explained that there was really no steady, reliable information on the Underworld, and Julia was the closest they had to an expert on the Underworld. Julia started on the East River dragon being their best bet on a ticket to and from the Underworld. 

 

“If O.L.U. is down there, she owes me and I’m calling in whatever I can. If not, because it’s kinda unclear what happens to gods when they’re… well, Penny seems to have risen through the ranks. He’d be fair to us-”

“Haven’t we asked him for enough?” Alice, who’d been observing the whole discussion in perfect silence seemed to reach her breaking point here, “He’s literally risked his life over and over for us, that’s how he got down there to begin with. What ground do we actually have to stand on to ask for a favor?”

“So, what, we give up on Q?” Margo retorted quickly, “Roles reversed, he’d do anything.”

 

Kady could understand why asking Penny for help struck a nerve, he had literally always gone the extra mile to put it all on the line to help out, loathe though he was to actually admit he truly _cared_  for most of them. Penny and Alice had actually gotten along pretty well, all things considered, so Kady could appreciate her trying to stick up for him.

“Besides,” Kady piped up, smirking a bit while thinking it over, “It’s not like Penny and Q ever got along. If anything, offering a way for Quentin to get out of the Underworld and away from Penny is probably the best thing we have to offer him.”

“Fair enough,” Margo immediately latched onto that, pointing at Kady to emphasize, “I love Coldwater, but those two always clashed. We’ve got our bargaining chip. Any other complaints?”

“Yes, actually, you can get Q’s spirit from the Underworld, but unless you have a body to put it in, then we still have a huge problem, which is that Quentin would just be a restless spirit.”

“Isn’t building a body what you were trying to do for our Penny when you had my magic?” Julia asked very calmly and looked at Alice in a very measured way, but the other girl almost visibly prickled at the memory.

“Yes, but… well, that way didn't end too well for me,” Alice pointedly would not, or could not, look Julia in the eye while responding, “It’d be easier if we had some of Quentin’s DNA. There’s nothing left of him though.”

“Easier doesn’t mean it would be impossible without it, though?” 23 weighed in fairly.

“Right, we have a lead on some of Q’s blood actually,” Eliot said thoughtfully, looking at Alice curiously, “Plus we have the option of trying to find some living clay and going the golem route, but I’m a little hesitant about that from personal experience.”

“It’s just… we keep digging ourselves deeper and deeper into shit, don’t we? One solution just unearths a thousand more problems, and with heavier prices to pay. Haven’t we all been through enough? When are you guys going to stop, realize that this is just life, find a way to heal and move on from this? Hope to god you remember how to be happy at some point?” Alice had launched herself from the couch mid rant to pace to common room restlessly.

“Oh god, Alice, please,” Eliot snapped at the girl, “I’ve never been happy. If you remember, neither were you. Not before Quentin. We’ve all had miserable fucking lives. This is us trying to be happy. If I’m not focused on this, I don’t exactly have a purpose, I don’t think I’d find a way to be happy. I sympathize with your pain, I really do. If this is something that’s beyond your limitations right now, that’s alright. We could use your help, but we won’t force you. Just please don’t stand in our way, not again.”

“That’s not fair,” she seemed to beg him. Kady knew Eliot was taking a stab at Alice’s betrayal at Castle Blackspire, and could appreciate that that was a very unresolved issue for Eliot, who’d only returned once everyone else had their turn to be cold and angry with her and work through it whatever way they could.

“Isn’t it though?” Margo shot under her breath. So maybe Eliot wasn’t the only one with slightly unresolved issues. Alice looked deflated as she finally walked back to the couch and took her seat again, indignation extinguished by some very pointed shots from the others.

“Maybe we need a little more time to heal?” Kady chimed in, warily looking at Alice and Eliot. If there was going to be infighting, an already dangerous, high-stakes mission wasn’t going to get any better.

“How much more time until he moves on, though? There’s no way to know. If we’re going to do this, I think it’s better sooner than later,” Julia replied.

“I doubt it’s actually going to be as simple as it looks on paper,” said 23, trying but failing to not look at Julia with concern written all over his face. She returned his look icily, but he continued, “I want to voice a concern, before it’s too late. I’ve seen Coldwater brought back from the dead before, and that ended fucking disastrously.”

“He didn’t have a shade, it was completely destroyed,” Julia shook her head, her tone indicating it was entirely black and white, she saw 23’s concern as unwarranted and she wasn’t interested in hearing more, “This is different. His shade is intact, perfectly healthy.”

“Just. Let’s be careful,” he emphasized.

“Well then, all hands on deck, right Eliot?”

“Right.”

 

Kady didn’t know what she was missing _there_ , but she naturally drifted to be on Julia’s scouting team for the dragon, go to preemptively strike a deal and ask a price, so they’d know what to prepare for.

-

Kady was looking over Julia’s frantically scribbled notes on the research Margo had been able to gather, sitting on the foot of Julia’s bed while the other woman leaned on the pillows, watching her. It wasn’t very concise, but it didn’t exactly need to be. Julia was headstrong, Kady was certain she’d be able to get what they needed out of the dragon, and from there Julia could navigate as well as possible.

 

“So…” Julia started, raising her eyebrows and giving Kady an inscrutable look.

 

“So?”

 

“How are you feeling about this plan?”

 

“That it’s not as much of a shit show as I thought it would be when this inevitably happened.”

 

“You thought this was going to happen?”

 

“I mean I had a pretty good feeling it would. I mean, come on, we’re not really the kind of people to just let things go, and Margo made a good point. Given the chance, Quentin would have gone to the ends of the earth to save anyone he cared about.”

 

Julia nodded, a hesitant expression on her face, like she wanted to ask a question, but didn’t know how to phrase it delicately. Kady could guess what it was.

 

“You’re wondering if I’m mad we didn’t try harder to get Penny back?”

 

Julia nodded again, apologetic, “I’d understand if you were.”

 

“I was kinda entirely out of commission after that, Jules. And there was so much else going on. It’s never not going to hurt, and I’ll admit that I think if it were someone else… but without magic, our hands were tied. After we got it back, and we knew who we were, it was another life or death emergency. And I won’t forget, Q is the one who broke me out of the clinic after Alice and Penny kind of got me stuck in there. He might have had ulterior motives, but it was still decent.”

 

“From what Margo said, it seems like Penny is with Q down there.”

 

“Yeah,” Kady said, setting the papers down on the blanket next to her and scooting back to sit next to Julia, “It does. It also seems like he’s grown to like his position as a Librarian a little more than I ever expected.”

 

“That _is_  pretty surprising.”

 

“How about you, Jules. You seem… good.”

 

“Yeah? Well, hope does that to a person, I guess,” Julia replied, looking at Kady with sparkling eyes, smiling, “Thanks for being here with me for when I wasn’t so… good.”

 

Kady felt the impulse to respond by pressing a soft kiss onto Julia’s lips for one wild second, familiarity and memory in an almost intimate moment, seeing Julia almost happy again. Kady pushed that down, cleared the thought from her mind, returned the smile softly.

 

“Always, Jules.”

-

It seemed to be the natural way for the group to split up, as far as Kady could tell 23 of course would take Margo and most likely Eliot to Fillory, and when Kady knocked on Alice’s door to see if she changed her mind she wasn’t there. Kady hoped that was a good sign.

 

“You ready?” Julia asked, touching Kady’s shoulder gently to get her attention as she was still standing in the entrance of Alice’s room, double checking the girl wasn’t there.

 

“Yeah, sure,” Kady replied, turning to look at Julia and her breath catching a little at how close she was standing, how bright her face seemed to be, a lightness in her she hadn’t seen in so long, hope, “Uh… hey, you know anything about where Alice is?”

 

Julia furrowed her brow and looked into the room quickly, “I don’t, but I hope she’s with the others. If she’s not, though, we might as well hurry.”

 

“Yeah,” Kady repeated, and Julia took her by the hand and led her down the stairs, to where the portal into the city was. Before they stepped through it, though, Julia turned back towards Kady and looked steadily in her eyes.

 

“Kady, I want to kiss you right now,” Julia said, determination and certainty strong in her voice.

 

“You…?” Kady was completely out of her depth, at a loss for words entirely, thinking she must be hearing things.

 

“Yeah, _I_ want to kiss you,” Julia repeated firmly, “Just giving you fair warning.”

 

“Oh,” Kady replied softly, still stunned.

 

“If you don’t want me to, or aren’t sure, I’m not going to, though,” Julia gave Kady’s hand she was holding a gentle squeeze and turned back to the portal. Kady’s brain took a moment to catch up to what was happening as they stepped through.

 

“Julia?” Kady asked as they took the first couple steps on the city streets.

 

“Mhm?”

 

“I want you to kiss me.”

 

The smile on Julia’s face was nothing short of dazzling as she closed the space between the two of them, hand that was holding onto Kady’s pulled her in, the other reaching up to gently cup the side of her face. Julia kept the kiss gentle, but Kady lost sense of time back in this familiar embrace anyway. The way it felt to have Julia pressed up against her, the way Julia tangled her fingers up in Kady’s curls, the way Kady’s head seemed to go blank of everything except Julia and her lips moving against hers.

 

Too soon, Julia pulled back, and there was that _smile_  again.

 

“That was… really nice.”

 

“Agreed,” Julia agreed happily, “To be continued, though. We’ve got some shit to do.”

 

Julia laced her fingers through Kady’s, and hummed happily as they approached the dock. Kady didn’t like to think of herself as a sap, but the day seemed a little brighter, the sky a little bluer, as she navigated through people rushing by. Even the girl sitting behind the reception desk on the dock seemed to have unnaturally vivid red hair.

 

Wait.

 

 _Shit_. Poppy Kline was sitting behind the desk, and she’d caught sight of them, giving a little wave. Kady looked over at Julia.

 

“Uh, I thought the herald was-”

 

“Named Harold? Yeah,” Julia muttered back as they reached the desk, Poppy looking at the pair of them expectantly, “Poppy?”

 

“Julia!” the girl responded enthusiastically, “Kady, hi, how are you?”

 

“Honestly? Been better,” Kady replied, a little more snarky than necessary.

 

“I heard about Quentin,” Poppy said carefully, doing her best to appear sympathetic, “I’m sorry, I wanted to come by and say something, but I’ve been a little busy.”

 

Poppy indicated a cradle with a sleeping child in it. Kady felt her eyebrows fly upwards, that’s something she hadn’t really expected, Julia seemed to take it in stride.

 

“Congratulations,” she told her, sounding as if she might mean it, “So, are you the herald now? I would think she might have a few reservations seeing as you did steal from her.”

 

“Yeah, well, I can be very persuasive,” she responded brightly, “Is there something I can help you with?”

 

“I guess so,” Julia said uneasily, “We’re trying to inquire about the price of passage to and from the Underworld.”

 

“Hmm,” Poppy looked quizzically between the two of them, “I think I see where this is going…”

 

“Look, we need,” Kady quickly mentally added up the group, “Passage for six people to go down, seven to come back up. Can you give us an idea of what she’d want in return?”

 

“Wow, alright, so who else is involved in this?” Poppy asked curiously.

 

“Pretty much everyone except Josh, he’s in Fillory.”

 

“Margo?”

 

“You’ve met?”

 

“Only briefly, but she’s got a reputation. Word travels,” Poppy thought it over for a second, then checked the time on a wristwatch, “Okay, my shift is just about over. Give me a few, I’ll finish up then we can discuss it wherever you guys are based.”

 

“Can’t you just-” Kady started, getting irritated.

 

“You’re the one asking for favors here, I just want to see everyone else, tell them I’m sorry and all that. Then we can start negotiations.”

 

Kady opened her mouth to say something, but Julia grabbed her wrist gently.

 

“Alright,” Julia agreed, “But Poppy, we’ve got a pretty low tolerance for bullshit right now.”

 

“Noted.”

 

-

 

Poppy was true enough to her word, staying only long enough to convey her condolences, and ask the price. Margo’s axes, which she looked pissed about, but didn’t argue against it. Kady had no idea _how_  word spread about that, at least they were making progress. Alice had indeed gone to help with the mission of getting Quentin’s blood back, and it seemed like she’d forged a peace with Eliot and Margo. She seemed a lot more settled, less haunted and more gathered. Missions seemed to have that effect.

 

With their unexpected guest gone again, they moved to start working on prepping the spell work to build Quentin a body.

 

“I don’t mean to contradict any of the work we’ve done so far,” Julia suddenly asked, staring at a complicated bit of spell work with a puzzled expression on her face, “And I’m may not have classical education, but aren’t there summonings we could do? Especially if we have his blood? That way we don’t have to go to the Underworld?”

 

Kady automatically looked at Alice, feeling a little panicked. She could see her own feelings echoed there. The last time either of them attempted a summoning, they accidentally opened a door for the Beast to step through and consequently wreck their shit.

 

“Summonings are… risky at best, you can never be sure what’s going to answer, not for sure,” Kady tried not to let it show too much how much the concept was freaking her out, she could even see Eliot and Margo remembered how their attempt at summoning had gone by the wary expressions they were both wearing. Kady put a hand on Julia’s shoulder to try to show her her suggestion wasn’t just being flat out shot down, “If we built Quentin’s body, then summoned something else into it, we’d have to get rid of that, then find a way to get Quentin again. This is the closest we have to fool-proof.”

 

“Taking Quentin by the hand and bringing him back leaves so much less to chance than making a phone call, so to speak, and hoping he picks up,” Alice backed her up.

 

“Got it, no summonings. So, are we trying bone knitting again?”

 

“I think there’s an easier way,” Alice answered swiftly, “When I was trying to build Penny’s body, he’d been cremated, there was nothing usable left of him. Bone knitting is a difficult process, and we only have memories and pictures to model it off of. Quentin’s blood remembers the body that it used to belong in, if that makes sense. It’s kind of like what Mayakovsky and Q used to rebuild a body for me, but instead of using a shade and a niffin to make the mold, we’re using blood. We provide the raw materials, and the blood tells them what shape to take.”

 

“Right.”

 

As they got to work laying out the groundwork for the spells, Alice flipping through texts and marking what they would need, Julia and 23 measuring out what they already had, and Kady looking through sigils to figure out what would be helpful and what harmful, Margo directed a weary looking Eliot, who was leaning heavily on his cane, to the common room. She returned with a drink in hand, which Kady raised an eyebrow at.

 

“What? It was for El, but he passed out already, and I could use a fucking drink.”

 

“Is he doing alright?” 23 asked her, surprising Kady a bit. He'd been holding a bowl that Julia was doing something out into.

 

“Tired out,” Margo replied, expression softening just a little, “He’s still physically healing, emotionally, uh, well I think it’s getting better now.”

 

“I think that goes for all of us,” Julia spoke up, giving Margo a small smile, which the other girl returned after a beat.

 

-

 

When they finished working on the spell framework and turn in for the night, Kady finds Julia following her to her room, shutting the door behind them then getting into Kady’s space.

 

“Hey,” she says, mischief in her eye and hands reaching around Kady’s waist to pull her closer.

 

“Hey, you,” Kady replied, feeling a dorky smile spread wide across her face. Kady brought her hand up to lift Julia’s chin slightly, making for an easier angle to fit her lips against the other woman’s.

 

Julia responded enthusiastically, wrapping her arms tighter, working her hands under Kady’s shirt, pouring herself into Kady’s mouth, pushing her backwards towards the bed. They disconnected for a moment as Kady thumped back onto the mattress, breathless, and Julia stood over her, looking smug.

 

“Wow,” Kady panted out, “Not for nothing, but, a little unexpected, Jules. Not that I’m complaining, like, at all.”

 

Julia’s grinned wide and lowered herself over Kady, “What can I say, you look _really good_ today.”

 

She started sprinkling kisses over Kady’s face and neck, down to her collarbone, testing out biting the exposed skin. Kady involuntarily gasped in response.

 

“I- uh- god, okay, I mean I think I looked the same as always.”

 

“Hmm,” Julia hummed, working her kisses back up to Kady’s jawline before breaking away to respond, “Guess you look this good all the time then, Kady.”

 

Kady smiled and rolled her eyes, but craned her neck back up catch Julia’s lip between her teeth. Julia let Kady flip them over so she lay on her back, taking the opportunity to lift Kady’s shirt up, Kady obliging and lifting her arms up to get it over her head. Another twist of Julia’s finger’s had Kady’s bra unhooked, which she carefully removed the rest of the way, taking her in like she was the most incredible thing Julia had ever seen. Kady flushed a bit, working to return the favor and get Julia out of her top. Soon they were both wearing nothing but adoring looks for one another, and Kady pulled her hair back into a bun to keep it out of her way as she kissed her way down the other woman’s body.

 

Kady was wholly thankful for magic and the ability to soundproof a room. Kady was also thankful to have Julia here, bright and shining, full of an undefinable spark that seemed to burn in every inch of her, gasping and moaning and giggling beneath her as they found their way back to something beautiful, on to something even more.

-

Kady awoke to Margo’s slightly muffled yelling and the lights clicking on, _way_  too early.

 

“ _What the fuck?"_  she groaned, distinctly feeling the lack of sleep after she’d been guaranteed such a good one, She looked over at Jules, blinking sleep out of her eyes and stretching.

 

“Not the wake up call I wanted, but I’m sure it’s important,” Julia said, voice hoarse from sleep, “Guess we better go see what she wants before she starts breaking down doors.”

 

“Guess we better go clock Margo in the fucking jaw.”

 

“You’re really not a morning person, huh?”

-


	5. South Pole Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Do you regret coming here?"
> 
> "Of course not, my timeline is a literal hell hole. Pretty much everyone I know is dead. And... I'm glad I met you, Julia."
> 
> -
> 
> Just a short little bit of Julia and 23 going to Brakebills South

-

"Q and Alice had said when they came here that Mayakovsky is kinda entirely out of commission, so we can pretty much just take whatever we need to," Julia said once they'd zapped into Brakebills South.

 

"Great," 23 replied flatly, taking the hand he'd used to connect them for traveling off Julia's shoulder.

 

"Uh- so I didn't go here, do you know where storage is?"

 

He nodded and led the way down the unfamiliar hall. The silence was palpable, extremely tense and uncomfortable.

 

"Penny?" Julia asks delicately, wanting to put whatever the hell was the problem to rest. She wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt and _not_  just assume it was jealousy over her and Kady.

 

"What's up?"

 

"Is everything alright?"

 

He sighed, stopping in his tracks, and looked Julia in the eye, "It's not exactly fair of me to say it's not, is it?"

 

Julia opened her mouth to respond, then snapped it shut, shrugging. At least there was some level of self-awareness to his behavior, then.

 

"That's what I thought. I'm not trying to take it out on you, because it's not your problem. I'm trying to figure out what exactly I'm doing here anymore. I don't exactly fit in with the rest of the group."

 

"Do you regret coming here?"

 

"Of course not, my timeline is a literal hell hole. Pretty much everyone I know is dead. And... I'm glad I met you, Julia."

 

Julia gave him a soft smile, reaching up to rest her hand on his shoulder for a brief moment.

 

"But?" she led, sensing that not knowing his place in life couldn't be the beginning and end of his discontent.

 

"But, that doesn't really mean I belong here. And, like it or not, you were my whole reason for coming here."

 

Julia felt herself go cold, and not because they were in the god damn South Pole. It was the cold that preceded fury and frustration at his entitlement.

 

"That's not fair. That's not _fucking_ -"

 

23 held his hands up to try to signify surrender, "I know it's not, okay? I know it's not, and I'm sorry."

 

"So... what?" she snapped, "You stay bitter that I moved on?"

 

"No- I-" 23 let out a sigh, turning to keep walking down the halls, Julia following again, keeping her distance at a few steps behind him, "I'm working on it, Julia."

 

"Good," Julia retorted a little harshly.

 

"You don't have to forgive me, but I want you to know I _am_ sorry, you deserve better than everything I've done to you."

 

"You're hardly the worst thing to happen to me, Penny."

 

"Doesn't make it okay, though, does it," 23 poses it like a statement, like a fact.

 

"No, it doesn't, it was still monumentally shitty of you," Julia agreed, "But that doesn't mean we can't move forward from it."

 

23 reached the room he was looking for, opening a door and stepping inside.

 

"I'd like that," he replied sincerely, "So, what do we need?"

 

-

 

They filled up a duffel bag with all the supplies they needed, and some they thought might just be useful.

 

"What are they going to do with this place, do you think?" Julia asked as they walked back down the halls.

 

"Cut this part of the curriculum, hopefully."

 

"Yeah?" Julia asked curiously, "Was it really that bad?"

 

"I don't know, I learned invaluable shit, but it was kind of..." 23 trailed off, rolling one shoulder.

 

"Horrible?" Julia offered.

 

"Yeah," 23 smirked at that, "So, you and Kady."

 

"Me and Kady."

 

"How'd that happen?"

 

Julia laughs, actually laughs, “There’s a lot more history there than I bet Josh was aware of.”

-


	6. Penny and Quentin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I trust you. Not words Penny Adiyodi had really ever expected Quentin Coldwater to say to him, but there they were.
> 
> -
> 
> AKA "Sike, bitch. We're going topside. Let's burn this shit down."
> 
> (no shit actually gets burned down, I just couldn't resist putting that in this.)
> 
> Warning for mentions of suicide

-

Penny stood waiting at the elevator, he didn’t exactly know who he was expecting to be the first person he’d see in this capacity, probably not someone he personally _knew_ , though.

 

But the elevator door dings, opens to Quentin Coldwater, looking confused and a little bit scared. Penny could sympathize, but couldn’t exactly relate. His own death had been… so fucking weird.

 

“Hey,” he said, conscious of the fact that his tone was a lot gentler than it had ever been in life when speaking to Q, “Been a while. Welcome to the Underworld.”

 

Penny immediately felt a guilty, for all that he was trying to handle the guy with kid gloves, the expression on Quentin’s face shifted to being hit with the weight of all his worst fears coming true.

 

“Oh, shit,” he whispered, “Really.”

 

Penny led Quentin back to the office, aptly labelled secrets taken to the grave. The boy looked distinctly shaken and fragile. Penny had received training for the eventuality he might take this role up in some capacity, just the basics. Every Librarian in the Underworld branch did. But Penny knew what it meant that _he_  was the first one assigned to him. His gut said it was the right move, so here goes nothing.

 

“Hot chocolate,” he offered Quentin a cup kindly, who took it if only for something to do with his hands.

 

“I’m dead, but there’s still hot chocolate,” Q responded in a small voice, “That’s a good sign.”

 

Quentin’s hands started shaking uncontrollably, he was folding in on himself a bit and sniffling.

 

“What did I _do_?”

 

“What do you think you did?”

 

“I don’t know, it happened so fast,” Quentin’s voice was still so fragile, he was wiping away tears frantically, unable to look Penny in the eye till he gathered himself a bit, sucking in a breath and straightening his back, “This is the part where I can’t lie, right?”

 

Penny steeled himself to play this part through, exactly as he was told. It was the only shot for both of them.

-

So, Penny never really put much stock in authority figures. So he had no idea _why_  he listened to Hades that day, but it did feel right. The weird ass pig bus probably wasn’t going to get him where he wanted anyway. And Sylvia, well, she actually did need this. She was just a damn kid, she deserved her peace. He joined Howard’s book club, dulled himself down, rose to a cushier position. But it wasn’t life. It felt like absolutely nothing. Sure, all possible knowledge of the universe was at his fingertips and whatever the shit, but what fucking good is that when you’re stuck in a monotonous grey box with perfectly pleasant people for the rest of a billion years. An endless shuffle of organizing information, sorting life stories, ferrying people on.

 

So, just when he thought he was going to reach his breaking point, figure out a way to con another metro card from an unsuspecting soul and highjack that bus right back to topside, he got another visit from the King of Hell.

 

“I wish you wouldn’t call me that, it’s not exactly accurate,” the god said calmly, studying Penny in his measured way.

 

“ _Fine_ ,” Penny replied, “”What do you want, anyway?”

 

“Penny, are you actually happy here?”

 

“Does it matter?” he threw back, “I mean, like, is that actually the point of this, I thought I was supposed to just be mindlessly obedient, stick to the grind for the next billion years, then get passed on.”

 

“Believe it or not, it does, and I have absolutely no doubt that if you were to stick to the path you’re currently on, you  _wouldn’t_  be ‘mindlessly obedient’, as you put it.”

 

“Okay,” Penny suspected as much, when he saw him calmly sitting in the chair opposite his own. Gods and their omniscience, and all that, “I’m not. Did you _really_ , like _actually think_ I would be, though? Not trying to minimize the work that’s done here or anything, but damn it’s boring as hell.”

 

Hades blinked slowly, letting out a controlled sigh.

 

“I’m here to offer you a deal. Follow my directions _exactly_ , down to the letter, and you’ve got yourself a ticket back up to your world.”

 

Penny sat there in stunned silence for a beat, then, “Wait, are you _fucking serious_?”

 

“This isn’t something I’d generally joke about.”

 

“But, why?”

 

“You aren’t exactly what I hoped you’d be, to be honest, but you’re pretty damn close, which means-”

 

“It means _he_  is?” Penny cut in, realization dawning on him. His alternate timeline self, that’s who Hades wanted, “I don’t know if I can just _condemn_  him to-”

 

Hades held up his hand, “I wouldn’t ask that of you. I’m not trying to test your morals. I don’t foresee him having the same qualms about working here as you do, Penny. It’s truly not my goal to make either of you miserable, just to find the right balance. I'm not actually in the business of damning anyone, Penny.”

-

So there Penny was, following Hades directions _exactly_ , down to the letter. Meeting his double, giving him the instructions, “When the moment comes, I said, ‘do it’. Do what he says, okay?”

 

Penny had no clue about what that meant, not at all all. He maybe playing the part of the smug all-knowing bastard well enough, but he had the distinct impression Hades was keeping him in the dark on purpose.

 

He fucking exploded when Hades gave him his next instructions, realizing what he told his alternate self to do.

 

“I told him to fucking abandon Quentin to _kill himself_ ,” Penny shouted, distraught and enraged, “How the hell is that okay, how the _hell_  am I supposed to live with that?”

 

“I understand how you must be feeling.”

 

“No, _no_ , you clearly don’t, because for all the crap I’ve given Quentin, I _actually_  care what happens to him, I _actually_  don’t want him to fucking kill himself, holy shit, _holy shit_ , if this is the fucking price I don’t want to go back, I’m not trading my life for someone else’s, not _his_ , not any of my-"

 

“Penny,” Hades said his name so calmly, but with an undefinable note of ‘shut the fuck up, mortal’ in it that Penny couldn’t ignore. He sat back down heavily, still feeling panicked and nauseous at the thought of what he told the other Penny to sentence Quentin to.

 

“You’ve read Quentin’s book.”

 

“I read the one before Alice intervened, the correction hasn’t made its rounds yet,” Penny couldn’t tone down the accusation in his voice, _you made me kill my friend_.

 

“Penny, if you do this the way I tell you, and it goes as planned, he comes back with you.”

 

He thought it out for a moment, relieved about that, but yet, “That doesn’t make leaving him okay.”

 

“Human morality is a bit beyond me, nevertheless, he’ll be here, it’s up to you to play this straight. He may choose to stay here, Penny, to move on. I can’t help you if that’s the case, and I have to ask you not to force him to go back if that’s not what he wants.”

 

“Shit.”

-

So when Quentin _was_  the first one off the elevator when he was transferred to that department, Penny did his best to be as absolutely soft and gentle with him as he could be, while still doing what he was told. They had one shot, Penny hoped to… well, it felt a little ironic to say god here, but he really was hoping this wasn’t an unnecessary cruelty on a soul that just wanted to rest, to be done. That Quentin still had the fight left in him to want to get back up there.

 

“I mean, my whole life is…,” Quentin trailed off.

 

“Revealed. But that only means anything if you reveal it to yourself.”

 

“ Okay. Um, most of my life, I've been in and out of hospitals and…you know, just suicidal thoughts and notes. A lot of notes. Attempts andmeds and therapy and then-then I found Brakebills and all that went away. I-I thought, but…”

 

“But?”

 

“Did I do something _brave_  to save my friends, or did I finally find a way to kill myself?”

 

Ouch. Quentin’s eyes were still sparkling with tears, Penny could see how much it took out of him to ask that question.

 

“Okay,” he said sympathetically, “I can see we’re going to need the deluxe package, which, it’s okay. No surprise. Let’s go.”

 

The deluxe package. Pretty images of what happens after your death to soothe an anguished soul.

 

As soon as Quentin saw them sitting around, staring at the fire, he tried to run forward to them, Penny had to grab his arm to hold him back.

 

“Wow,” Quentin said at one point, looking at the gathered group.

 

“Appreciate the level of sincere grief, dude,” Penny couldn’t help the little dig at the other man, “I seem to remember when I kicked it, you laughing.”

 

A smile actually spread across Quentin’s face, and he broke into tearful chuckles. What a little shit.

 

“I’m really sorry about that.”

 

“It’s okay,” Penny replied, also smiling. It _was_  okay, “I’m not you.”

 

Another peaceful sentiment about changing all their lives, and Penny saw Quentin’s heart break all over again when Eliot threw a peach into the fire.

 

“It’s time to say goodbye.”

 

“Alright, just one last look.”

 

Quentin looked back at the fire, shaking a little to contain the sobs that seemed to want to break out of him, but finally pulled himself together, turning back to Penny and nodding. Penny placed a comforting hand on Quentin’s shoulder, and the other man may have glanced back a few times, but he didn’t stop again or try to go back to watch anymore.

 

When they were back in Penny’s office, Quentin seemed a little out of it for a while, Penny took a moment to fill out some paper work and write out an important note. The first thing Quentin said was to ask after his friends, to see whether they would end up alright. Penny felt as if he was lying through his teeth, but he painted the pretty pictures he’d been told to.

 

“What happens next?” Quentin asked as Penny guided him towards the exit, lead him to where the Underworld Metro would pick him up.

 

“Learn to love the mysteries, man.”

 

“Can I ask you something?” Quentin looks to Penny, and it’s so obvious what he wants to say because it’s _so_  different to how they’d interact up there.

 

“Yes, I'm nicer,” Penny answered the unasked question, and Quentin chuckled a bit, “All that stuff that we think protects us or motivates us or scares us up there, here it just all falls away. You're finally just… you. You'll see.”

 

Sounds so much nicer than _because I feel like this is all my fucking fault and I don’t want to be a raging dick for once_. Penny reaches into his pocket for the metro card, holding it out to Quentin. The other man takes it slowly, confusion written clearly on his face as he looks up at Penny, shaking his head a little, seemingly searching for the words to ask the millions of questions he must have.

 

“This is as far as I go, brother.”

 

Quentin took a moment to look back at the empty archway Penny indicated, ominously standing where it hadn’t been a moment beforehand. He was entirely speechless, turning back to Penny and blinking away tears that were threatening to spill over at any moment, before he closed the distance between the two of them swiftly, tightly embracing him. Just for a moment, holding on like it was the last human contact he’d have. And, well, that _was_  what he was being led to believe. When Quentin broke away, Penny gave him a small, sincere, sad smile. Then Quentin turned back to the archway, walking towards it before he lost his nerve.

 

…

 

Penny looked at Quentin still standing in front of the arch, facing away from Penny, but uncertainty written into the lines of his body, how he was holding himself. Penny steeled himself to make the offer, hold the rope out that could save both of them. It was quite literally now or never.

 

"Wait," the word seemed to ring out through the empty room, filling the entire space with its importance. Q whirled around, quizzical expression on his face.

 

"What?"

 

"Just, wait, man, there's another option."

 

Quentin smirked a little sadly, shaking his head, "Thanks, but I'm really not interested in joining the Order and becoming a Librarian."

 

"No, idiot, that's not the offer on the table. I'm saying there's a way for you- a way for _us_ \- to get back up there."

 

It was hard to read the exact expression from this distance.

 

"Are you actually serious right now? Is- is this some sort of prank because I laughed? I _am_  sorry about that, Penny-"

 

"No, dude, _turn the metro card over_.”

 

He watched apprehensively as Q flipped over the card he was holding, reading the note Penny had scrawled there earlier, over and over, as if he wasn't quite sure whether what he was seeing was true.

 

_Sike, bitch. We're going topside. Let's burn this shit down._

 

"What the f-" Quentin started saying before he broke out into a run back towards Penny, who was reminded of what felt like a million years ago, when he'd tried to get Q expelled to save his own ass, and Quentin, fucking bold as ever, tried to throw a punch at him. Then tried to throw battle magic at him. Okay, maybe he should've written something else on the card, but he just wanted to have a little fun with it. 

 

He held up his hands to try to show he was going to play this passively, but Quentin landed into him with a thud, pulling his arms tightly around the taller man again.

 

"Seriously? Fuck you," he said, sounding like he was crying all over again, "Like- thank god, Penny, thank _god_ , but also, from the bottom of my heart, fuck you."

 

"For a second there I thought you were gonna try to deck me again," Penny wrapped his arms around Q, rubbing circles in his back comfortingly.

 

"I was considering it," Q sniffed, but Penny could hear the smile in his voice, "That was- that was-"

 

Penny barked out a laugh, "Sorry, man. I really am."

 

"But, _why_?"

 

"The fire?" Penny asked. Quentin broke away from the hug and nodded, wiping his tears on his sweatshirt sleeve, "Margo's fairy eye. She could see us, it's supposed to spark something."

 

"So- okay, but- the futures you told me about?"

 

"Being at the fire already changed those, to tell you the truth," Penny said, gesturing for Q to follow him as he started walking back towards his office.

 

"Then... why did you act like I was going to move on?"

 

"This _had_  to be your choice. It's the only way it could've worked. Look, unfortunately I don't make the rules here, or I would have just been straight with you from the start. I don't like playing the smug omniscient asshole all that much."

 

"Yeah, well, you really could've fooled me on that one," Q mumbled, once again taking a seat and picking up his untouched cup of hot chocolate, "Who _is_  making the rules, then?"

 

"Are you actually asking me who's calling the shots in the Underworld?"

 

Quentin laughed a little at that, "Fair enough, okay, so- wait, you said that you're going to- that you want to- ?"

 

"Yeah, I want to come back," Penny replied softly, "I miss... all of you assholes, if I'm being honest. It's dull as shit down here."

 

Q smiled widely, corners of his eyes crinkling.

 

"I'm glad. I really- we, uh… Well, I missed you too."

 

Penny smiled fondly at the squirmy little idiot, and Q took an overenthusiastic sip of the cocoa to avoid eye contact, coughing and sputtering a little.

 

“Shit, that’s still _hot_.”

-

“First thing’s first,” Penny said, when Quentin started getting nervous and twitchy about being found out, “Blend in. No one here actually _knows_  you, outside of me, so no one here is going to figure out you don’t belong here if you wear a suit and act like you belong here.”

 

Quentin scrunched his face a bit in dislike, but relented, “Okay, fine, where do we get a spare suit?”

 

“Well, I _was_  prepared for you to be here, so I already got it for you,” Penny answered a bit more snarky than strictly necessary, raising an eyebrow, which Quentin pouted at. Penny opened a door in the back of his office that was filled almost to the brim with now-defunct books of lives that had been altered, and a crisp grey suit. He pulled it out and held it out to Quentin, who’s distaste was only growing more apparent.

 

“Could I just, like, hide out in here until the others come for us?”

 

“Bold of you to assume I don’t have anything better to do than babysit your ass, Coldwater,” Penny retorted, “That _is_  kind of the plan, anyway, but if any other Librarian needs something from me, they might be a little suspicious of you making yourself at home here if you're dressed as a civilian.”

 

“Fine,” Quentin took the hanger from Penny, “Could you give me a little privacy?”

 

“No worries, man,” Penny turned his back on Q, facing the corner.

 

“Thanks.”

 

“You decent?” Penny asked after a few minutes had passed and the rustle of clothing had subsided, Quentin hummed in affirmation and he turned around, “How’s it fit?”

 

“To be completely honest, I’ve never been one for suits,” Quentin replied hesitantly, holding his arms out to examine the way the sleeves were just a bit too long for him, looking distinctly stiff and uncomfortable.

 

Penny scoffed, “You do realize you’re saying that to the guy that didn’t even wear a shirt most of the time, right? I’ve been stuck wearing this thing for so fucking long,” he said, actually breaking into a bit of laughter and he stepped over to look Quentin over and straighten the Librarian’s suit out. The other man grinned sheepishly and let him fuss a little over it, “Doesn’t mean I don’t know how to wear one though, which is apparently what it means for you.”

 

“You’re acting like I put the whole thing on backwards,” he protested, amused, as Penny undid his horrible attempt at tying a tie and redid it.

 

“So there may be hope for you yet,” Penny smiled, taking a step back to take in the effect, “Hmm.”

 

“So, what's the verdict?” Quentin asked, striking a ridiculous pose seemingly to try to hide the fact that he cared what Penny’s answer would be, “Do I look alright?”

 

“You’re _fine_ , Quentin,” he replied just a touch exasperatedly, “We’re going to have to do something about your hair, though.”

 

“What?”

 

“To get it out of your face, it looks unprofessional and that’s kind of the opposite of the Library’s whole vibe.”

-

They settled on giving Quentin a simple pair of wire frame glasses, and pushed his hair up and out of his face. He continued to look stiff and unsure of himself, but it almost worked perfectly because most of the Librarians were neurotic as hell. An effective enough disguise to get them through the next few weeks without anyone taking too close a look at him, Penny would just brush him off as a newbie who he was showing the ropes to if anyone got too nosey.

 

Quentin was mostly content to stay holed up in Penny’s office, his nose in one of the Library’s many books. He tended to stick to fantasy, and was absolutely appalled by the idea of reading someone else’s book.

 

“That’s such an invasion of privacy, though.”

 

“I mean fair enough, if they’re still alive and you are too. Otherwise, it’s unlikely you’ll meet and discuss it on any meaningful level.”

 

Quentin pulled a face, still obviously opposed to it.

 

“It’s like a biography.”

 

“Sure, if biographies painted completely unfiltered portraits of the person they’re about,” he countered, still scrunching his face up.

 

“Okay,” Penny held his hands up in mock surrender, “I don’t want to debate the ethics of this with you.”

 

Quentin laughed a little, pulling his legs up onto the chair he was perched on and hugging his knees to himself, “I’m not judging you, I mean, its your job.”

 

“Good, the _last thing_  I would want is to suffer the scorn and judgement of Quentin Coldwater,” Penny retorted, amused. Quentin smiled at that, trying unsuccessfully to suppress giggles.

 

“Did I always annoy the shit out of you?”

 

“Not exactly.”

 

“Not exactly?”

 

“I think I was mostly just overwhelmed. I don’t know if you realize what it’s like to be psychic. It’s pretty fucking overwhelming on it’s own, but most people’s thoughts aren’t quite as…”

 

“…Oh.”

 

“Yeah, um, hey, totally realize I was being a dick. But your unfiltered thoughts are loud as hell and also go at like a hundred god damn miles an hour and are panicked just about one hundred percent of the time. That, and Taylor Swift being consistently stuck in your head? Sorry I never gave you a real chance, I just thought I had more important things to worry about than every little worry that consumed your mind.”

 

“You’re kind of preaching to the guy who’s trapped in that particular hell all the time, dude,” Quentin said, but still with a smile on his face.

 

Penny laughed loudly, “Okay, okay, I get that. And I sympathize, and I think that scared me a little. I got annoyed that I felt sorry, and I know personally I’d rather have someone be a complete asshole to me than pity me.”

 

“So it was a favor?” Quentin snorted, “That’s a little convoluted, you think _my_  thoughts make no sense…”

 

“By the time I got over myself, and you got the hang of warding your thoughts, we’d already gotten off on entirely the wrong foot. But, we had our good times.”

 

“You did save me from getting gutted by the Beast when he was possessing that Mike asshole.”

 

“And you chopped my hands off! Somehow I always come off worse for wear.”

-

It worked for a while. Penny was left _mostly_  unbothered by other Librarians, he didn’t receive anymore assignments for secrets taken to the grave, Penny suspected divine intervention on that front. But- and Penny _really_  should have seen this coming, they _were_  god damn Librarians- he started to get an uncomfortable amount of questions about the young man who was always sitting in his office from members of Harold’s book club, you know, the quiet and shy one, the one who never seemed to be doing anything but reading _fantasy_ , didn’t that seem a little odd, why doesn’t he come to book club, read about a _real_  person’s life, was Penny trying to keep him all to himself, someone might get the wrong idea…

 

“We’ve got to get them to hurry it the hell up,” Penny told Quentin after bullshitting his way out of another nosey coworker trying to figure Quentin’s mystery out and closing his office door tightly.

 

“Hm?” Quentin asked, looking up from his book, “What?”

 

“Our people up there,” Penny said, “We’ve got to get out of here, and sooner rather than later. Not just because those assholes are annoying the shit out of me about you, but they’re going to catch onto something not being quite right here eventually.”

 

“Oh, _oh_ ,” realization and anxiety spread across Quentin’s face quickly, “Shit, uh, how do we do that, though?”

 

“I’ve got an idea about that,” Penny said, opening one of the drawers of his desk and pulling out Julia’s book, flipping open to a bookmarked section, “They’ve got the right idea so far, I knew they would, they’re all pretty fucking smart, truth be told. Anyway, do you remember the spell Julia cast to trap you in your own mind?”

 

Quentin visibly paled a considerable amount and nodded, the unpleasant memory clearly not his favorite to be reminded of.

 

“Okay, well, we’re obviously not trying to put any of them out of commission, they need each other not just to get down here, but also to emotionally support one another. There’s a harmless version we can do, you can slip in and out to give one of them a message they can relay to the rest.”

 

Hope flooded Quentin’s face, “Who?”

 

“That’s really mostly up to you, but it has to be someone you have a strong connection with, that’s the only way it’ll work from down here.”

 

“Oh- um-” Quentin sputtered a bit, “I don’t-”

 

“Quentin? Choose Eliot.”

 

He immediately flushed bright red, clamming up and looking down at his hands in his lap where he was picking nervously at his cuticles.

 

“Yeah?” Penny asked, egging Quentin on gently to get him to respond.

 

“How did you, um…” Quentin trailed off before completing the sentence.

 

“I was assigned your books at one point,” Penny said as delicately as he could, treading lightly, “I know I’m probably the last person who you want to hear weigh in on it, but, you and him worked, Quentin. It’s none of my business, but you had a healthy relationship and his heart is entirely open when it comes to you.”

 

“But he… but…” Q took a deep breath, steeling himself, “I don’t think he- I mean…”

 

“Look, I don’t want to get too involved, or turn into a gossipy little shit. Quentin, you care about him and he cares about you. Whatever the reasons were that you didn’t work out, just trust me on this because we _need_  to get out of here.”

 

“Okay,” Quentin said, still looking extremely embarrassed to be discussing feelings with Penny, “I trust you.”

 

 _I trust you_. Not words Penny Adiyodi had really ever expected Quentin Coldwater to say to him, but there they were.

 

“I appreciate that,” he responded sincerely, then grabbed Quentin’s clothes from Earth from where they were neatly folded in one of his drawers, tossing them lightly to the other man, then turned his back, “Change into those, it’s probably going to work a little better if you’re dressed like yourself.”

 

“Okay,” Quentin agreed, then repeated himself to indicate he was changed.

 

Penny nodded, grabbed Julia’s book, clapped a hand on Quentin’s shoulder, and led him out to the big, empty room where he’d almost exited the Underworld two weeks prior.

 

“Uh…”

 

“What happened to all that trust, man?” Penny teased Quentin gently, “It’s okay, this is where the separation between different worlds is at its thinnest, so it’s the best shot we have to cast this spell.”

 

“What about when you got us up to Earth to see the others?”

 

“I don’t exactly have the authorization for that. Kind of a ‘one time per customer’ type deal.”

 

They sat cross legged on the floor next to each other, Penny producing everything they needed, to Quentin’s wonder, and finally they were ready to cast.

 

“You know what you’re gonna say, man?”

 

Quentin nodded, looking a little apprehensive, “I’ve got an idea.”

 

“Alright, here goes nothing.”

 

It was cooperative magic, but Penny gave Quentin his privacy during it, not needing to see or hear what was going on, just keeping the enchantment going long enough to get the message across. It was difficult, the connection extremely delicate and started fading all too soon. When Quentin came to, he immediately broke into tears.

 

“Hey, hey, it’s alright,” Penny said gently, putting an arm around him and letting Q lean into him for comfort, “It’s alright, man, you’ll see him soon, I promise.”

 

Penny held him until he gathered himself, wiping the tears away on the sleeve of his hoodie in a familiar gesture.

 

“Sorry.”

 

“Quentin?”

 

“Mhm,” Quentin didn’t look Penny in the eye, keeping his gaze fixed to the book still laying open.

 

“You don’t have to apologize for not being okay,” Penny told him seriously, “I mean it. I know I’ve been hard on you in the past, and we butted heads a lot, but when we get back up there, you can talk to me, alright? If you need to? If it gets fuckin’ dark in that head, you can let me know. And if you seem like you’re having a rough go of it, but you're having trouble reaching out, I’ll reach out. You don’t even have to talk to me if you don’t want to. It can be Julia, or Eliot, or Margo. Just… know that the people who love you don’t think you’re a burden just because you’re not okay. We care about you, man.”

 

“Thanks. I... thanks, Penny.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“And, Penny?” Quentin looked at him seriously, and he nodded to show him he was listening, “Same goes for you. And, I know, it’s not the same thing exactly but… know that there are other ways we can fix a problem than you sacrificing your life to it. I know that’s big talk coming from me, but-”

 

“Noted,” Penny replied with a smile, “And appreciated.”

 

“If we can’t see through each other’s bullshit, who will?”

-


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I know what you mean. Not to seem like the optimist, Alice, but maybe the universe won’t fuck us over, just this once.”
> 
> “Sounds like something Quentin would say.”
> 
> -
> 
> Warning for mouth horror/teeth horror (nothing especially graphic, in my opinion, just want to make sure)

-

 

“Is it… is he… done?” Julia whispered, breaking the silence that had crystalized in the room, the delicate stillness they were all afraid of disturbing in case they shattered the illusion that they were actually pulling this off.

 

Alice took a sharp breath, dropping the hands of Kady and Eliot, who she had been positioned between for casting, a slightly trembling hand coming up to adjust her glasses in a reflexive gesture, and she nodded, “I think so. I mean, yes, the spell worked, that’s Quentin.”

 

Undeniably, that _was_  Quentin laying on the table, still, expressionless, free of the worry you would even see on his face when he was asleep. His hair was longer, like it had been before his witness protection identity had cut it off. Eliot had only caught a glimpse of it for a moment that day in the park, but he had immediately missed the longer hair, that felt like a distinct separation from the long ponytail he had grown in another life.Margo reached out and touched the body carefully on the shoulder, almost experimentally.

 

“It’s not wooden anymore,” she said quietly, seemingly to herself, then neatly picked up a throw blanket and covered Quentin with it, leaving his head exposed, as if he actually was sleeping, “I don’t think he’d really want us all standing around staring at his naked body.”

 

Eliot couldn’t take his eyes off of Quentin’s body, lying on the table. There hadn’t been a body when he died, there had only been everyone assuring him of the fact that Q had died, he was gone, and nothing tangible to mourn. Eliot knew that having this meant that they were closer than ever to getting him back, but it still felt like it made the fact that right at this moment Quentin Coldwater was dead feel even realer. A physical manifestation of the loss that had incapacitated him.

 

Though blood was pumping through those veins, and air was moving in and out of the lungs to keep the body ready for Quentin to actually inhabit it, in any way that _actually mattered_ , it was lifeless. The soul of the man that he’d given up control of his own body and life for was not present. Eliot felt the tears leaking from his eyes, off-handedly hoping no one else noticed as he wiped them away hurriedly. But the more he attempted to mask his pain, the harder it became, the more the corpse-like body seemed to signify that Quentin was dead, he was _fucking dead_. He attempted several deep breaths to steady himself, but they felt shallow, he felt like he was drowning, there was no air to breathe in. Eliot closed his eyes to shut out the image, only to feel wildly unsteady, the ground started to fall out from beneath him and-

 

Everyone called out a little frantically and three pairs of warm, solid, steady hands caught him and held him firmly. He recognized Margo’s familiar grip on his hands, someone close to his own height had caught him from behind, and from what he remembered Alice had been right beside him so he suspected she caught him by the right elbow.

 

“Let’s get him out of here,” Eliot distantly heard a man’s voice come from the direction of the strongest hands that caught him under the shoulders. 23, then. Eliot struggled to get his eyes back open, quickly realizing the attempt was fruitless as his eyelids now seemed to weigh a ton.

 

“No, I’m fine,” he was saying weakly, but no one was really listening, 23 was able to sweep Eliot into a bridal carry with shocking ease and the operation of getting him to the couch in the common room went surprisingly smoothly. Well, that’s just deeply embarrassing.

 

Eliot felt a cold sweat soaking through his clothes, thankful to be reclined in the solid couch, but still feeling extremely shaken. Fully aware of seeming to be the delicate flower in this moment, he finally felt able to catch his breath, taking in his surroundings. He was propped up by a couple pillows, and five worried people were gathered in the room while trying to seem like they weren’t crowding him. Margo was crouched right by his side, still holding his hand, while everyone else hung back a little, Julia and Kady whispering concernedly.

 

“Eliot,” Margo pitched her voice low, so only he could hear her, “Was it Quentin or… did you eat today?”

 

“You watch me like a hawk, Bambi, you tell me,” he responded, trying to keep his voice light enough that she’d stop looking at him like he was about to fall apart. She nodded, ignoring the joking tone, turning to look at the others.

 

“Go make yourselves useful and fix something to eat,” she snapped, and everyone knew better than to actually take that personally or argue against the suggestion, they vacated the room with limited glances back.

 

“Alright, asshole,” she said, propping up his shoulders so she could readjust his pillows and settle herself onto the couch, then resting his head on her lap, “Talk to me. You know we’re gonna do this thing, right?”

 

“Yeah,” he replied, “That’s not… it was just…”

 

“I know,” she filled in where he trailed off, “I knew we were going to have to see him before we _saw_ him and it’s… it fucking hard Eliot, even for me. I’m sorry.”

 

“Kind of ridiculous that I can’t handle this,” Eliot mused, “After everything else, I’m falling apart when I’m supposed to be strong enough to save him.”

 

“You were possessed by a literal god damned monster, you piece of shit. Then, you almost died because I whacked you with a couple axes. Do you want me to keep going back on all the other traumatic shit you’re expecting yourself to handle solo, or are you going to be reasonable? The rest of us are here for a reason, you’re allowed to lean on us. You’re allowed to have weak moments.”

 

“We all are.”

 

Margo smirked, twirling a lock of Eliot’s hair around her pointer finger, then her face grew serious, “ _Shit_ , I was so lost without you, Eliot. Never do that to me again.”

 

“You’d tear apart heaven and hell just to kick my ass.”

 

“Don’t you fucking _dare_ think I’m not counting down the days till I can kick your ass without feeling guilty about it.”

 

“Margo, the Destroyer.”

-

It didn’t take too long for Eliot to feel steadier. Despite his mishap before, he was starting to feel sturdier in general, still relying on the cane but it was definitely improving overall. Still, when he started to get up, Margo insisted on getting 23 to help him into the kitchen.

 

“Come on, you kinda dug being carried by him before,” Margo teased, “I know you always wanted to bang Penny.”

 

“Actually, that was humiliating,” Eliot clarified, “I don’t like playing damsel in distress. And, sure, I wanted to bang _our_ Penny, they’re completely different.”

 

“Personality wise, agreed. He’s still hot, though.”

 

“He’s a bit more fond of being fully clothed than our Penny.”

 

“‘Kay, he’s still helping you into the kitchen, El.”

 

Eliot didn’t know whether Margo bullied the man into it, or if he was actually fine being used for his muscle to escort Eliot (in a- just to emphasize- _completely humiliating way_ ) from room to room as Margo deemed it necessary.

 

“Sorry,” Eliot said as 23 slipped his shoulder under Eliot’s arm, wrapping an arm around him, sturdy but gentle, “She can be…”

 

“No worries, man,” 23 replied, “She cares about you. It’s nice.”

 

As they passed by the table again, Eliot noticed that someone clothed Quentin’s body. When Eliot limped into the room, aided both by his cane and 23, they were discussing that Kady offered her bedroom as a place to keep Quentin until they were ready to make the trip into the city.

 

“Okay, but where are _you_  going to-” Alice started to ask, but Kady raised an eyebrow defiantly, taking Julia’s hand. Alice snapped her mouth shut, face turning a little pink.

 

“We discussed it, and it seems disrespectful to just shove him in a closet or something,” Julia said calmly, “So does just leaving him lying out on a table, it’s a little eery.”

 

“And you two want to shack up together and it seemed like as good an excuse as any,” Margo clarified, an amused expression on her face. They were all huddled in the kitchen, picking at food and discussing their plans. She pulled up a chair and helped Eliot take a seat in it, “Thanks, hon,” she added to 23.

 

“Okay,” Julia replied, “That too.”

 

“At least some of us are getting any,” Margo commented casually.

 

“Alright, we actually have more important things to discuss than who’s fucking,” Alice interjected in an attempt to derail that line of thought, “I found a spell that we should be able to use to animate the body enough so we don’t have to look like we’re lugging a possibly dead or unconscious body around. It’s just enough to have him be able to stand and walk.”

 

“When are we doing this thing?” 23 asked.

 

“As soon as possible,” Eliot and Alice replied in unison.

 

“I don’t see why we wouldn’t be ready tomorrow, then,” Julia smiled softly, popping a grape into her mouth.

 

It was all coming together much more smoothly than Eliot could have hoped for, especially given Margo’s assertion that they would get Quentin back no matter how high the stakes actually were. It was difficult, but they had yet to hit a snag that actually threw them for a loop. It was a complete change of pace from their usual chaotic struggles.

 

Alice fixed a plate and brought it to Eliot, and he thanked her as she took a seat next to him.

 

“Do you feel like maybe this is a little too easy?” she asked him, in a bit of an undertone, as the others started talking amongst themselves, “I just mean that-“

 

“By now we’ve been thrown off track and have had to readjust our plans about a dozen times, statistically speaking?” he finished her line of thought, she let out a breath and nodded, looking a little worried, “I know what you mean. Not to seem like the optimist, Alice, but maybe the universe won’t fuck us over, just this once.”

 

“Sounds like something Quentin would say.”

 

Eliot smiled at her, and she returned it, “I guess so. Hopefully I’m not jinxing us, though.”

-

The next morning when Eliot woke up, he immediately realized something was wrong. The ache from the axe wounds was gone, he felt no pain. There was also the fact that he wasn’t in his bed, he was sitting on the couch listening to Quentin explain… something. Eliot tried to focus a little more, and heard him talking about the castle at the end of the world. Another memory dream?

 

But then Margo is interrupting Quentin, telling him to hurry up and get to the point, and though he’s aware this isn’t real, this isn’t where they are in time, he can’t stop himself from responding the way he did months ago.

 

“Sh, Bambi, let him read.”

 

“I’m just saying, _andale_.”

 

Quentin continues reading then is interrupted again, “Sorry, time out, I thought the weird door swallowed the keys.”

 

“Yeah, no, it did, but then-”

 

“But then she has them again? I’m not that drunk, this is sloppy plotting,” again Eliot felt himself responding without having any control over what he was saying. He wanted to shout out, to jump up and do something, anything, to break where he was, to snap out of the dream. But it just kept playing out, and he was hitting his marks perfectly without trying, all his lines spilling out without his say-so, reliving the memory in exact detail.

-

Alice

-

There was a kind of practiced familiarity to Alice’s dreams, the way they flowed. Nightmarish, but precise. Horrifying, but there was something still so organized about it. The utterly predictable stress dream that every high-strung girl gets about her teeth falling out (why teeth? Why was that such a common factor, anyway?), but most people can remember the horrified feeling within the dream, the panic, the visceral _oh shit, what the fuck is happening to me_. Alice had played a different version out every couple of weeks ever since she could remember.

 

Sat straight-backed at a table, Alice reached into her mouth and pulled each tooth out, one by one, placing them neatly in front of her in a bowl. Always the illusion of control over her circumstances, always having a hand on the reigns of her anxieties. The measured, exact movements, the pressure, pull, drop. Her mother would always be sitting across from her, talking about her, through her, commenting as if she was watching a recording and her daughter wasn’t actually right there, listening to every word she said.

 

“I don’t know where I could have gone wrong, I don’t know why she wound up like this, I don’t understand what could have happened. I was a wonderful mother, I tried my best. Ask anyone, ask Daniel, ask Charlie. I don’t understand what the fuck is wrong with Alice.”

 

It was so tired and overplayed, Alice barely payed any attention to the words her mother was speaking, didn’t take any real notice of the woman seated directly in front of her, just let the scenario play out, get it over with already. No shit, she was stressed. She didn’t really need a reminder from her subconscious, she was well aware of this fact. She plucked the teeth out, set them down delicately, ran her tongue across her bleeding gums, repeat. When she was done, she looked at the woman sitting across from her, waiting to be dismissed, waiting to wake up.

 

But, that wasn’t her mother.

 

“I see I finally have your attention, girlie.”

-

Margo

-

It was always nice to have your dreams remind you of your absolute lowest points, that even the closest people to you have their limits when it comes to your manipulation. That through your fierce protective instincts, you actually managed to fuck everything up even more than it would have been if you’d just left everything alone for once, let it play out, have a little faith in others.

 

“You truthied me, I can’t lie,” Margo heard herself say sincerely, just a touch of pleading entering her tone, playing this whole pathetic display picture perfect to the last hundred times it haunted her, “Eliot, I did this for you. There was no other way.”

 

“Don’t,” he cut her off, harshly, more harsh than she had ever heard him when it came to her, “ _You_  started this when you declared war.”

 

The truth hurts, every time.

 

“Now my wife and child are gone. I need to deal with the rats. I can’t deal with having to clean up your next mess. Guards.”

 

“No, Eliot,” Margo heard herself begging, a tear running down her face. Pathetic. If she could stop herself, she would, “What are you doing?”

 

“I don’t know what else to do,” he replied, then turning to the guards, “Take her to the dungeon.”

 

“No-” the guards grabbed her roughly, lifting her from her chair, “Eliot, I’ll fix this.”

 

Her desperation was painfully clear, didn’t he know she would do absolutely anything to fix it? She’d go to the ends of the this gods-forsaken rock and any other just to make things alright between them.

 

“Goodbye, Margo.”

-

23

-

Penny had a lot of shitty memories he’d tried to repress, tie them down and lock them away. His childhood was pretty fucking horrible, when he went off to Brakebills it improved just a bit before it all got even worse and he had the pleasure of watching the apocalypse unfold before him, watch the few meaningful connections he was able to forge get violently torn away from him.

 

So, seeing Julia, _his_  Julia, get torn to shreds by the Beast, and everything that lead up to that moment.

 

Props for figuring out that was a horrific memory, something that brought him an intense amount of pain, then subtract those points for being predictable as fuck.

 

It didn’t take long at all for Penny to see her where she shouldn’t be, someone he wouldn’t know at this point of his life, someone he barely knew at all. The woman stuck out like a sore thumb, it was almost like she was trying to get caught, clue him in that this wasn’t just his subconscious fucking him over.

 

This was a collection call.

-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I owe a little bit of an explanation for Alice's dream, since the other's are mostly memories we've seen within the show (excluding 23 who has limited stuff to work with, but his is still technically canon)
> 
> I felt like it was a good time to explore her character a little more since I haven't written from her POV, giving her a scene from the show didn't seem like it'd be enough. The dream is actually based (for the most part) off a recurring stress dream I have so I guess there's that.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Holy shit, Coldwater, I think that’s the most I’ve ever liked you.”
> 
> "Somehow, telling a god his morals are shitty is ten times more nerve-wracking than killing one."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took me so long to get around to posting this chapter! I was in Florida for a bit then when I got back Good Omens had come out and I had to binge the whole thing (twice) but I finally finished this chapter.

-

Julia + Kady

-

 

“Hey, so what did you and 23 talk about when you went to the South Pole?” Kady asked suddenly, looking up from the inventory list she was checking over for a safe house at Julia’s desk. Julia was reclined on the bed, staring at the page of a book she wasn’t really reading, she had the feeling Kady had been holding this question in all day, probably swinging back and forth between whether it was any of her business and intense curiosity.

 

“I just… wanted to make he was okay,” Julia answered slowly.

 

“Whether _he_  was okay?” Kady repeated incredulously, with a breathy little chuckle that held no amusement at all.

 

“Kady, I don’t want-”

 

“Julia, you know that you have this tendency to be way too forgiving, right?”

 

It was Julia’s turn to laugh at that notion.

 

“Of all my faults, I don’t think being _too_  forgiving is one of them, Kady,” Julia responded, still laughing a little, “Vindictive bitch? Yes, absolutely. Too forgiving…?”

 

“Maybe before you got your shade back,” Kady shot back, then paused for a second, expression becoming exceedingly gentle, “Look…”

 

“ _Maybe_  we shouldn’t talk about this,” Julia said, voice stone-like as she clenched her jaw. What happened when she got her shade back was a sensitive topic between the two of them, they hadn’t really talked about it in a way that ended well for either of them.

 

“I’m not trying to start a fight, Julia. I just-”

 

“I can take care of myself.”

 

“I am _well_ aware! Everyone is, you’re a goddamn powerhouse, regardless of what he did to you. That’s my point, what he fucking did to you was selfish and it shouldn’t have been up to him and he has _no_ excuse.”

 

“Kady…” Julia sighed and closed the book she still wasn’t reading, sitting up straight and tucking her hair behind her ears, “I spent _so much time_  being unbelievably angry at things that were done to me, all it did was it made me out of control, and reckless, and destructive. I don’t think what Penny did is alright. I haven’t forgiven him for it. I’m just not letting it consume all my energy, I don’t want it to weigh on me, I can’t bear it.”

 

Kady got up from the desk and walked over to the bed, sitting down carefully, not crowding into Julia’s space. She looked into Julia’s eyes.

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

“You don’t have to be,” Julia answered honestly, reaching out to take Kady’s hand, “Don’t worry about it.”

 

“Alright, I didn’t want to push you buttons I just...” Kady trailed off a bit with a shrug.

 

“You were concerned?” Julia offered.

 

“I care.”

 

“You’re over-protective.”

 

“Fiercely, bitch.”

-

Falling asleep in Kady’s arms felt… right. It felt safe, she felt protected, she felt, well, _good_. Waking up to the first thing she sees being Kady’s face, so peaceful in sleep, was a little golden moment she never knew she’d be able to treasure again. She was absolutely breathtaking. Julia craned her neck to press a soft, light, innocent kiss to Kady’s jaw, and the other girl’s lips twitched up into a smile, her eyelashes fluttering a little to show she was awake.

 

“Sh,” she said softly, “Still sleeping, Jules.”

 

Julia laughed softly, wrapping her arms tight around her, fitting herself against Kady, loving the way they felt pressed against one another, Kady was so warm, solid, alive, she could hear her heart beating in her chest as she lay her head on it. She felt Kady pull her arms around her in response, limbs still working a little heavily with sleep still in them, one hand resting on the small of Julia’s back, the other cradling the back of her head, fingers tangling in her hair. She pressed a gentle kiss into Julia’s hairline and hummed happily.

 

“God, I wish we could just stay like this all day,” Julia mumbled, lips pressed against Kady’s skin.

 

“Mmm, one of these days, I promise.”

 

“I’m _going_  to hold you to that.”

 

“Oh yeah?” Kady responded, voice amused and light with laughter. Julia looked up to see her smile, eyes seeming to twinkle with amusement. She shifted upwards to plant a kiss on that smile, catching it for a moment, moving her hands underneath Kady’s shirt.

 

“Count on it,” she told her as she broke away from the kiss, Kady flashed that bright smile again, using her hand that was still tangled in Julia’s long hair to bring her face in for another kiss, deeper this time.

 

“I can’t think of anything better,” Kady said seriously, her eyes still shining brightly with happiness, “Unfortunately, today we’ve got shit to do. We better get moving before Margo does something stupid to make me want to punch her in the face.”

 

Julia sighed but rolled off of Kady, stretching as she got out of bed.

 

“What time is it, anyway?”

 

“Uh, shit, it’s like nine o’ clock,” Kady answered, furrowing her brows and exchanging a concerned look with Julia.

 

“Okay, it’s a little weird that-”

 

“Have you heard _anyone_  move around yet?” Kady had sprung out of bed, throwing on clothes hurriedly and the sense of _something is really not right here_  started to come down on them.

 

“I haven’t, but I just woke up.”

 

“Yeah, and nine is the absolute latest they wanted to leave by, what the hell is going on?” Kady was starting to sound a little frantic, she whirled around and stalked out of the room. Julia hurried to pull her pants on so she could follow.

 

Kady was pulling open doors, looking into each room, only to find them all empty. As she slammed the door to Eliot’s room open, Julia peeked into Margo’s.

 

“They _didn’t_ fucking leave us behind, I swear to-”

 

“They didn’t,” Julia called out, “Come look.”

 

Julia was pointing to Margo’s axes, laying neatly on the bench at the end of her bed.

 

“Shit,” Kady said as she walked into the room, “What the hell is going on here?”

 

“I don’t know but we’ve got to find out soon.”

 

-

23

-

 

“What did you do to us?” Penny asked, the dream around him fading away as he realized what was going on, the presence of the mysterious witch that they’d bargained for Quentin’s blood with breaking the illusion entirely. He was laying on the dirt floor of the cabin in Fillory, Alice, Margo, and Eliot were also there, still unconscious. Presumably trapped in nightmares until they figured out what the hell was going on.

 

“I shouldn’t be at all surprised that you were the first one to break the spell, what with you being a psychic,” the woman commented, as casually as if this were a regular occurrence, she paused to take a long sip of something out of a clay cup, “Though that one almost had you beat for a second, before she doubted herself.”

 

She was pointing to Alice, laying on the floor in her pajamas.

 

“Is this some sort of fucked up test, then?”

 

“No, I’m merely exacting the price on what you bargained from me. Easiest to do that if you’re here, best to do it when you’re unconscious. I’m not much of a fighter.”

 

“What the hell do you expect once _she_  wakes up, then?” Penny asked jerking his thumb towards Margo.

 

“I expect to be long gone, boy. I got what I wanted, what I was owed, for the record.”

 

“ _What_ -”

 

The woman arched an eyebrow and looked pointedly at his arm. Penny looked down to see a bandage tied around it, a little bit of blood staining through.

 

“-the shit?” he looked at the others, “You didn’t take blood from them?”

 

“No,” she set the cup down on the table, then reached into her apron and took out four vials, one of blood, one containing a clear liquid, one with a tooth in it, and one with what looked like a human fingernail, “They had other valuables that were of use to me.”

 

“Ugh,” he felt a little sick looking at them, “Okay, you can put those back away. That’s some medieval bullshit. When will they wake up, then?”

 

“That depends.”

 

“…On?”

 

“They’re not psychics, you’re naturally resistant to any spell that takes a hold on the mind, it was far easier for you to work your way out of it. Maybe they can figure out how to snap themselves out on their own, maybe they need you to help guide them out. I’d err on the side of caution though, the deeper they get into the dream state, the harder it is to get them out. It would waste your time and theirs to try to stop me.”

 

“Well that’s opportunistic as hell.”

 

“I got the blood you payed for in the first place by bargaining with a man desperate to save his friends he feared to be dead or gravely injured. I never claimed to be anything else,” she said simply, getting out of her chair, “It was a pleasure meeting you.”

 

“Yeah, can’t really say the same.”

 

She gave him a serene smile, and walked out of the small house. Penny desperately hoped that would be the last he’d see of her.

 

“Shit.”

 

-

Eliot

-

 

“I stay in the castle,” Quentin announced, “It's a fair deal. She's been there for centuries, and she's tired, and I’m- I'm strong enough, thanks to the quest. So, I'm the new jailor.”

 

“This isn't the solution,” Alice told him firmly

 

“I second that,” came the response from Eliot, tried and true, staying the course. This dream was going to lead him right to his great fuck-up, letting the Monster free to torment all his loved ones, not to mention the awfully high body count he’d rack up.

 

“Alice, who's the one that died for us?” Q asked, then looked to Eliot, “You were willing to stay in Fillory for forever. How is this different? Someone has to step up.”

 

“Quick alternative pitch,” Margo chipped in, clearly pissed off, “Take the gun with the god-killing bullet and shoot the fucking monster in the face.”

 

“Second, second that, yes.”

 

“No. I promised, no clever stuff.”

 

“It's more bloody and straightforward,” Eliot heard himself reason. The whole damn thing was really going to play out in his head, and there was nothing he could do to stop it or change it, even if he knew it wasn’t real.

 

Lucid dreaming was some load of bullshit. He could feel the panic rising in his head, felt it constricting in his chest, yet his voice didn’t betray it, no one made any mention that he must look like an anxious wreck. This car was heading straight for a wall at a hundred miles an hour and nothing he could do would steer it away. He let himself just grow numb and felt himself go through the motions, letting it all swim before him impassively as he heard himself say his lines perfectly. Soon enough, there they were, in the castle, he was handing Margo key and telling her-

 

“In case I get held up.”

 

“Don’t, hear me?" she said it firmly, but he could see the love in her expression, she was incredibly worried about Q. Eliot nodded, pulling her gently into a hug.

 

"You got this, okay?"

 

Well, he did and he didn’t. He hid and waited to see the Monster, get the shot, pull the trigger.

 

It would go just how him and Margo planned, up until the point where it wouldn’t.

 

“Eliot.”

 

Breaking out of the scripted trance Eliot whirled around to see Penny standing behind him.

 

“Oh god, thank god,” he said in one shaky breath, feeling winded and relieved, “Jesus, I never knew I’d be so grateful to know a psychic, you really-”

 

“Yeah, okay, we’ve got to _go_ , you can thank me later, alright? We need to get out of your personal hell.”

 

“By all means, show me the way,” Eliot said, before doubling over in pain.

 

It seemed with the nightmare broken, reality was setting in quick, and Eliot could feel his injury protesting the hours he’d spent ignoring it. 23 came over, fitting his arm under Eliot’s shoulder.

 

“Wake up, Eliot. We’re in Fillory and we need to get the others before we can get back to Earth and start on what we actually need to be doing.”

 

The castle faded away as 23 spoke urgently to him, soon it was clear he wasn’t standing, he was laying on a dirt floor, soaked in a cold sweat, 23 bent over him, as much concern as Eliot had ever seen him show anyone who wasn’t Julia etched into his face.

 

“Are you alright?”

 

Eliot struggled to lift himself to his elbows on the hard dirt floor, but the stress it put on his core cause him to cry out a little, squeezing his eyes shut from the pain. He felt 23 put a hand under his shoulder.

 

“Do you want help?”

 

“Ideally, I’d like not to need it, but yes, right now I’d appreciate it.”

 

23 lifted him the rest of the way and Eliot winced only a little, the other man offered an arm to help him to the unoccupied chair sitting nearby.

 

“Thanks,” Eliot said, “So… any idea what we’re actually doing here? And what happened to you? And-”

 

Eliot was talking about the blood stained cloth wrapped around 23’s forearm, then looked at Margo, took stock of the crudely wrapped cloth around her pointer finger, which seemed to be bleeding quite a bit.

 

“I’ll tell you what I know once I wake the others, okay?”

 

-

Alice

-

 

It was growing extremely tiresome, sitting here at the table, pulling a nonsensical amount of teeth from her mouth. Alice thought this had actually been going somewhere when the witch had been the one sitting across the table from her, not her mother. But then she had just looked at Alice expectantly, eventually sighing and getting up.

 

“Not quite as interesting as I hoped, hm?” she asked, and Alice furrowed her eyebrows, “Well, that’s not my problem. You’ll figure your way out of here eventually, I expect.”

 

Alice had no idea whatsoever the woman fucking expected from her since she couldn’t exactly speak, having no teeth. She spit a mouthful of blood across the table and glared.

 

“Got a lot of fight, huh? Good, I expect you’ll need it.”

 

With that she had left and Alice gasped as her teeth grew back in, painfully, and the whole thing started over.

 

-

Margo

-

 

Margo paced the dungeon, the walls seeming to close in on her more and more. She remembered handling this much more gracefully when it had actually happened. Now she was taking turns screaming and banging on the walls, pacing, and just sitting and staring at the wall listlessly. There weren’t any guards outside the cell, Rafe never came with the tincture that would send her to the fairy realm. She was isolated completely. She could yell herself hoarse about how she was sorry, how she could do something to help, it wasn’t making a difference. She could scrape her nails against the walls in desperation until they were down to the fingertip, it wasn’t making a difference. She could rattle the bars until she genuinely grew weary with the effort, it wasn’t making a difference.

 

“Eliot,” she said softly from her cot, head buried in her hands, “I know it doesn’t mean shit to you, but I _am_  sorry, okay? I’m fucking sorry. Sorry for being a shitty friend, for bargaining your child’s life away, for starting a fucking war. I’m a hot-headed, impulsive bitch with highly questionable morals, alright? My judgement was off, but _fuck_ , Eliot. I was goddamn desperate, and scared, and not ready to fucking rule a country at twenty four.”

 

The silence responded to her cruelly, not a breath, not a scratch, not a shuffle, not a singular sign of life. Maybe the rest of the castle was turned to rats. She’d be stuck in here forever, rotting away to pay for her mistakes.

 

“I didn’t want to lose you, El. Call me what you want, but I’d do it again to save your ass. You don’t have to be grateful, just be alive, that’s all I wanted.”

 

A faint whoosh, Margo snapped her head up to see Penny standing in front of her.

 

“Margo,” his flatter voice gave him away, and Margo felt relief wash over her after what felt like an eternity.

 

“23? Thank fuck, I was starting to think I’d actually… shit, never mind. What the hell is going on?”

 

“It was that witch from Fillory, the one we got Quentin’s blood from,” he explained bluntly, holding a hand out to her, “Come on, it’s a dream Margo, it’s time to wake up.”

 

“If it was that easy, don’t you think I’d be awake by now? I’ve been ramming my fucking head against a wall for what feels like years.”

 

“Margo, wake _up_.”

 

She snapped awake all at once, almost head-butting 23 as she sat bolt upright, he moved away just in the nick of time.

 

“Jesus _fucking_  christ,” she said, taking a look around the room. It was the house of the witch, Eliot was seated at the table, looking relieved to see her awake, and she felt relief to see him looking at her like that. No accusation, no blame. Alice was laying on the floor next to her, still seeming to be asleep.

 

“Bambi,” Eliot called softly, holding his hand out to her, she got off the dirt floor and walked to him, taking his hand and realizing in the same moment the bandage over her finger. He raised it carefully, looking at it with sympathy then looking back at her. From what she could feel, that cowardly bitch took her _fingernail_ , of all things.

 

“Eliot,” she used her other hand to cup his cheek, looking into his eyes, then smoothing his hair back, “El, are you alright, what’s going on?”

 

“I only got the bare minimum, 23 said he’d explain it when we’re all awake, are you…?”

 

“I’m better now,” she turned to 23 to ask him something, but saw him already sitting cross legged next to Alice, presumably astral projecting into her dreams, “Where the hell is that little-”

 

“I’m pretty sure she cleared out of here before Penny started waking us up, and I’m also pretty sure that was a good move on her part.”

 

“If she thinks she can get away from me that easily, she’s got another thing coming.”

 

“I don’t doubt that, but for now we do have other, more important, things to do.”

 

Margo nodded and dragged another chair close to Eliot’s, sitting down next to him and looking at 23 and Alice, waiting for something to happen.

 

-

Alice

-

 

One hundred and fifty four.

 

One hundred and fifty five.

 

One hundred and fifty six.

 

Each tooth hit the bowl with a small clink, not noticeably disappearing, but the reality of the dream was a little smudged, the small metal bowl clearly not large enough to hold one hundred and fifty seven teeth and still have them hit the bottom every time.

 

One hundred and fifty eight.

 

She thought of the witch, why she must have been there. It must be some sort of collection of debt, what she felt the price was for Quentin’s blood. Alice had been right to worry they’d been getting away with this whole resurrection business a little too easily. She didn’t realize, however, that voicing those concerns to Eliot would give them actual power, bring them to life and stick her in a never ending nightmare of the dullest variety.

 

Oh, one hundred and fifty nine.

 

“Alice, stop.”

 

Alice actually paused, hand still hovering over the bowl she’d just dropped a tooth into. One hundred and sixty. 23 was standing across the table, brow furrowed as he took the scene in.

 

“This isn’t a memory, is it?”

 

Alice shook her head, getting up and walking around the table towards 23.

 

“This is a dream, Alice.”

 

She nodded, trying to convey through her expression that she found that extremely obvious. He laughed a little, putting a hand on her shoulder, shaking it lightly.

 

“Then _wake up_.”

 

Alice coughed as she regained consciousness, despite waking from the dream her mouth still tasted of blood. She sat up and spat a mouthful out onto the dirt floor.

 

“ _Jesus_ ,” Alice looked up to see Margo sitting in a wooden chair next to Eliot, looking down at her with apparent concern, “What was the point of all this, then?”

 

“Payment was due,” 23 said, getting to his feet and offering Alice a hand up, “According to her, the easiest way was to get us all here while we were sleeping, then make a run for it before any of you woke up.”

 

“Sounds like you talked to her then. You didn’t do anything to _stop_  her?” Margo asked incredulously.

 

“Well, it apparently was try to stop her or wake you guys up, and forgive me for thinking it was more important to help you out.”

 

“Thanks,” Alice muttered as she dusted herself off and put a hand to her jaw, still sore where her molar had been ripped out. Looking at the others, Penny had a bandage around his forearm, Margo had one wrapped around her pointer finger, and Eliot just looked a little pale, damp from sweat. She gathered they were all miserable, but more or less in one piece where it really mattered.

 

“I’m not going to pretend to understand exactly how the magic to summon us here was even possible,” Eliot voiced, “But does what she took seem a little random to anyone else?”

 

“I’m guessing here but…” Alice started, adding everything up in her mind, “We’d fight tooth and nail to bring Q back? And… well, blood, sweat, and tears is another common saying. 23 was the blood, Eliot presumably the sweat, and we’ve all cried our share of tears. It’s symbolic. Old witchcraft, not exactly textbook stuff.”

 

“Is that… _bad_?” Margo questioned, looking bewildered, “What does that do for her?”

 

“I’m gonna go with ‘not immediately concerning for us, but we should probably find her and do something about it at some point’,” Alice replied, “But right now we have to get back to the cottage, Julia and Kady-”

 

“C’mon,” Penny reached out to Eliot, helping him out of the chair and providing him some stability, since the witch hadn’t been thoughtful enough to bring along his cane. Margo was already holding Eliot’s hand, and Penny reached out to Alice, within another second they were standing back in the common room of the Cottage.

 

-

Q + Penny

-

 

The charm of being able to sit day in and day out on the chair in Penny’s office, leisurely flipping through any book he desired was really starting to fade. He was surprised it lasted for as long as it did, though maybe that was part of the whole Underworld thing. Kept you satisfied for just long enough for you to get lost. The appeal of doing basically nothing always lost it’s shine eventually, though.

 

It didn’t take Penny long to catch onto that fact, either.

 

“What?” he asked suddenly one day, snapping Quentin out of wherever his mind had been wandering.

 

“Hm?” Q responded, looking at where Penny was sitting at his desk, no longer paying attention to the paperwork in front of him, instead studying Quentin with a rapt attention that wasn’t exactly unknown to him. Q lost count of how many times, though Penny had always been quick to deny he cared, the other man had fixed him with a calculating stare, trying to figure out whether or not he was okay, what the best way to help _was_  without letting anyone else onto the fact that he wanted to help.

 

“What’s wrong, Quentin? I’m familiar with the way you were just staring into the distance, what the fuck is going on in that brain of yours right now?”

 

“Nothing, I’m just-”

 

“Okay, I know it’s not nothing. Don’t bullshit me. Maybe I can’t hear your thoughts down here, but you’re still an incredibly easy read.”

 

“No- I just,” Q sighed, hand automatically coming up to rake through his hair before he stopped himself, remembering he shouldn’t mess with it too much because it was part of his flimsy disguise, “I don’t know I… want something else to do, I guess.”

 

Penny snorted a little, smiling and shaking his head, “Never thought I’d hear _you_  say you were bored of having the universe’s entire library at your fingertips, Coldwater.”

 

“ _Ha-ha_ ,” Quentin responded sarcastically, “It’s a great idea on paper, it just gets a bit monotonous.”

 

“Tell me about it,” Penny said, shaking his head a little, “Okay, you know what? I have a little field trip we can go on. Just, don’t get too panicky on the way. If you can’t act like you know what you’re doing, at least act bored. Disdain reads a little better than panic.”

 

“I’ll do my best.”

 

“I know, man. C’mon,” Penny got up from his desk, leading the way out of the office, into the uniform grey hall.

 

“Where are we going?” Quentin asked quietly, after checking the coast was clear.

 

“It’s a surprise. Don’t worry, I’m pretty sure you’ll appreciate it.”

 

Quentin literally could not fathom what the library could hold that Penny thought would be a refreshing break from reading books day in and day out. He did his best not to fidget, and to look a little bored whenever they passed another librarian, but he couldn’t shake the paranoid feeling that each and every one of them knew that Quentin didn’t belong down here, that he was supposed to have moved on, and were on their way to report that to someone higher up.

 

“Only a bit farther,” Penny murmured as they turned another corner.

 

He wondered off-handedly how Penny had any idea where he was going, all of these hallways looked completely identical to Quentin. Rows of doorways, grey carpeting, not a single scuff on any of the walls to differentiate anything.

 

“Here we are,” Penny said happily, pulling a door open and waving Q in, “Benedict, I brought a visitor.”

 

The boy looked up from where he was marking a map with some sort of annotation, surprise crossing his face, then delight.

 

“King Quentin!” he exclaimed as Penny shut the door hurriedly behind him. He put his quill down and rushed forward, “Sire! I-”

 

His face dropped, realization seeming to hit him of where they were, the only way Quentin could be here was that he died.

 

“No, Benedict, it’s alright,” Quentin stepped forward, wrapping Benedict into a hug, “It’s okay, I promise. It’s really good to see you.”

 

“It’s good to see you too, sire. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry-”

 

“Benedict, I promise, whatever you’re apologizing for, you absolutely don’t need to,” Quentin told him gently, “How are you doing?”

 

“Well, aside from the whole being dead ordeal…” Benedict started anxiously, Q noticeably flinching and taking a turn to feel guilty, since he told Benedict to go after Poppy, and that’s how he wound up with the depression key, “Excellent, truly, I never dreamed of having access to these kinds of maps and information, I mean, I knew of Fillory and of Earth of course, but the many realms I have learned about and…”

 

Benedict’s face was lit with joy as he went on about the maps, he pulled away to show Quentin some of them, and Q listened enthusiastically, delighted to see the young mapmaker so passionate and in his element.

 

“Benedict?” Penny asked after a little while, looking at one of the filing cabinets curiously, “What kind of maps do you have of _this_  place?”

 

“The Underworld?” Benedict asked, rolling back up a topographical map of a distant planet that had absolutely no life aside from, for whatever reason, a thick purple moss, as he’d been explaining to Quentin, “Well, a few. Blueprints and general layout of the Library, a few that include karmic circles and where shades who’ve been separated stay, but the Underworld in general is a bit… unplottable as a whole, so to speak.”

 

Penny nodded vaguely, and didn’t ask anymore questions, so Benedict launched back into his tour.

 

-

 

On the way back winding through the monotonous grey halls, Quentin felt… better. A little lighter. He was glad that Benedict was doing something he loved, that he was good at, that he was appreciated for.

 

“Thanks,” he said quietly, bumping Penny lightly with his shoulder in a semi-affectionate gesture. Penny scoffed a little in amusement, returning the gesture with a gentle playful shove.

 

“You’re welcome,” he replied easily but firmly, “I knew that was weighing on you. Here.”

 

Penny had discreetly removed a sheet of paper from the inside pocket of his jacket, handing it to Q. Unfolding it, Quentin saw a detailed map of the Library, hand drawn, complete with a key and a “you are here” marker, that was slowly moving along at their pace.

 

“What’s this for?”

 

“Sh, keep it down,” Penny casually checked their hallway, somehow managing not to look twitchy and nervous while going about it, then continuing in a low tone, “I said we were going to burn shit down, right?”

 

“Yeah- well, actually I was assuming you just wrote that to look cool.”

 

“Shut the fuck- _anyway_ , well, I don’t think we can actually really _burn_  anything here, but we can fuck some shit up.”

 

“How?”

 

“Okay, so-”

 

Just as they were rounding a corner, still speaking in hushed tones, a man was right there, standing directly in Penny’s path.

 

“Penny, Quentin,” he said in a pleasant voice, “I wanted a word, if you don’t mind. Follow me.”

 

Without waiting for a response, the man promptly turned on his heel and started walking away. Alarm bells immediately started going off in Quentin’s mind, from the moment the man said his name. Had he somehow followed them to Benedict? How could he possibly know who he was?

 

Q shot Penny a panicked look, and the other man just looked annoyed, rolling his eyes in response to the order to follow.

 

“It’s Hades,” he muttered as he started following the man, “Should’ve fuckin’ known. C’mon.”

 

Q was completely unsure as to whether that made their situation better or worse. He’d only gotten the vague hint that a higher power was running the show and had told Penny what to do when it came to getting them out of the Underworld, so he guessed that was Hades. Not that Quentin hadn’t come into contact with gods before, there was Bacchus, and Ember and Umber, and briefly Calypso, but none of them were quite as big players in general mythology. You didn’t need to read up on anything to have an idea who Hades was, he was pretty engrained in everyday culture. It felt a bit weird.

 

He actually wound up leading them back to Penny’s office, which Q noted that he could have just waited there for them in the first place.

 

“Have a seat,” he said, tone still agreeable and almost a little musical. Penny’s expression clearly showed how he felt at being offered a seat in his own office, but he held his tongue, slouching in the chair a little lazily, clearly exasperated. Quentin wondered what had happened between the two to get him so annoyed right off the bat, but figured he could pick Penny’s brain about it later.

 

“Couldn’t give us just a few moments to have some fun?”

 

“I’m giving you the chance to have all the fun you want, once you return to the surface, Penny,” Hades replied, “Your life will be what you make of it, and you’ll no longer have an obligation to the Library. I just have to ask while you’re here that you not wreak havoc on my Library. I’ve put a lot of work into subtly influencing it just the way I like it.”

 

“ _You’re_  head of the Library?” Quentin asked incredulously. It tracked that since they seemed to be the big power down here now, instead of the hotel Quentin had arrived at last time (and he couldn’t help but think that that was a little less than a subtle change) that Hades was indeed running that.

 

“In a manner of speaking.”

 

“How far, exactly does your reach go?”

 

“I don’t think I follow.”

 

“I mean- do you, like, know what’s going on in other branches? Up there?”

 

“Yes, though all the Librarians, both in the Underworld and in the living world may not be exactly aware, I am ultimately the one they report to, in the end. Though I prefer to keep a low profile. Not get too involved.”

 

“So who’s responsible for the whole billion years contract business, is that part of your ‘subtle influence’? Or did you just kind of let that happen.”

 

“No one has to sign a contract, it’s their own free will-”

 

“Bullshit,” Quentin interrupted him angrily, shooting out of his chair and beginning to pace the length of the office, agitated and full of nerves and anger that he didn’t even realize prior to this moment had been building up, “What about letting a grad student and a _teenager_  die because they didn’t follow some bullshit rules that no one bothered to clarify in the first place, just have to be secretive and shifty about it?”

 

Penny was looking at him in a stunned kind of way, Hades was considering him calmly.

 

“It’s more of the big picture when it comes to gods and morals, really.”

 

“No, that’s not good enough. Your _employees_  sentenced a twenty three year old grad student in their manipulative employ to _death_ , their negligence cost him his life, because they refused to lift a finger to give him the cure they had _all along_. Not to mention the fact that he was forced to continue working himself to _literal death_  after he got infected. You don’t get to sit back and say 'big picture, it’s all for a greater good'. The Library was willing to kill every fairy on Earth for some shitty authoritarian power grab, and you just kick it in the Underworld and proclaim it’s all going according to 'big picture'? You seem to be calling some pretty big shots at a branch of an organization that sanctioned the mass murder of fairies, not to mention countless hedge witches. The 'big picture' can go screw itself, _your_ refusal to reprimand and correct the behavior of the topside branches of the organization you run in the afterlife, _your_ hands-off approach, is causing real damage.”

 

“Enough,” Hades said forcefully, Quentin sensed a fire and anger in the word that stopped him in his tracks, afraid that he’d gone too far, “I am not responsible for the horrific actions of humans. I don’t control them, I simply oversee the Underworld branch. I’m not having you run amok, so you will wait _here_  for your friends. I think they’ll be here shortly.”

 

With that, the god stood up, neatly buttoned his jacket, and exited the room, closing the door tightly behind him.

 

“Holy shit, Coldwater, I think that’s the most I’ve ever liked you.”

 

"Somehow, telling a god his morals are shitty is ten times more nerve-wracking than killing one," Q responded shakily, finally sinking back down into his chair, "I could really use a fucking drink."

 

-


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Party of six for the Underworld.

As soon as they were in the Cottage, Kady came storming up to them, her face a confusing combination of absolutely furious and extremely concerned. Julia was close behind, both women looked frazzled, liked they’d been just about to pull their hair out by the root. Eliot took a moment to sit on the sofa, getting off his feet for just a second while he had the chance.

 

“Where the _hell_  were you guys?” Kady demanded.

 

“Not exactly having the time of our lives,” Margo replied dryly, “We were kidnapped by that fucking batshit witch in Fillory.”

 

“Jesus, are you okay?” Julia asked, stepping forward a bit, the concern only deepening on her face.

 

“Physically, not much worse off,” Alice said, her voice still a little uneasy making the statement wholly unconvincing, “But we have other shit to focus on for the time being, so we can get back to that when we don’t have a rescue mission in the Underworld that requires our attention a little more urgently.”

 

“Right,” Kady said, offering Margo her axes by the handles, which she took gracefully, then Eliot his cane, which he accepted gratefully, “So I guess it’s time to do this shit.”

 

Nerves were building up inside Eliot, he only nodded solemnly in response to Kady. It was all gathering in a knot in his stomach. What if there was something they missed, what if it all went wrong, and he was right back to square one? Something vital and good that made him whole, gone again, all this hope he’d built up, ripped away again. He couldn’t shake the doubt that this couldn’t possibly be happening, there was no way this chance was presenting itself to him, to them. What if they had misinterpreted it all?

 

Margo gave him a nudge as the others started heading to the portal, snapping him out of the spiral he was starting to sink into.

 

“Table that shit,” Margo muttered as they followed the rest of the group, clearly reading the stab of panic too easily, “We’ve got our boy to save, Eliot. There’s no time to wimp out on me right now, its fucking all hands on deck, got it?”

 

“Got it, Bambi.”

 

She took his elbow with an affectionate squeeze, and within moments they were standing in the city, making their way through the bustling streets and down to the docks where Poppy presumably would be waiting at her desk. It was an overcast day, built with a pressure that was promising a storm, but wasn’t quite ready to deliver on it. The headache causing tension of a sky that just wanted to burst open. Quentin’s empty body was simply dressed, black jeans, grey t-shirt, black hoodie, wearing sunglasses to hide the vacant stare from nosy people on the street. Julia was leading it along with a gentle but firm grip on one of the hands, Kady in front of the both of them to keep hurried pedestrians from trying to squeeze between the two.

 

It luckily wasn’t a long walk to the reception desk Poppy was calmly sitting at, when she spotted them her face seemed to brighten up, as if they were all just great pals and this was a friendly visit they were stopping by for.

 

“You guys got your shit together fast,” she commented, then turned her eyes to the uninhabited body, looking it up and down, “Impressive spell work. Is that-”

 

“No offense Poppy, but is now really the best time for small talk?” Alice asked, a little snappishly, quirking an eyebrow at the woman, who looked as unhurt and cheerful as ever.

 

“Alright, to business then. So- axes?”

 

Margo fixed her with an icy stare, chin high, still clearly pissed as all hell that she had to relinquish something she had to go on such a difficult journey for, but she still lifted them up and placed them none too gently on the desk.

 

“Excellent,” Poppy said happily, taking a moment to look them over, then look back at the gathered group, “So, just to be one hundred percent clear for your sakes, you are all aware of the risk involved with this?”

 

“If we don’t have our asses back up here in the time allotted, we’re dragon food,” replied Margo, in a voice that conveyed how much she thought her time was being wasted here.

 

“Alright then, I’ll call her up here,” Poppy picked up the phone at her desk and dialed in an extension, “Yes, party of six for the Underworld.”

 

-

 

Quentin had told Eliot a little bit in passing what his previous experience in the Underworld had been like. Startling and white upon entrance, and really, over all, much more modern than you would expect it. When one moment they were standing on the dock, a fucking _dragon_  looking down on them, and the next they were in an exceptionally clean elevator, stereotypical music playing over the speaker and all, Eliot understood what Quentin meant. The sharp ache in his abdomen that had become a constant was dulled to just a pressure that told him he would still need to rely on the cane to move, but the lack of pain was nice. There was a silence hanging in the air, the sudden shock of being technically dead stunning them for the moment. The air- or lack of- around them felt canned and empty. Lacking anything of actual substance or value. Then the elevator dinged, the doors slid open, revealing a dark skinned middle aged man in a dark grey pin-striped suit and light pink shirt standing there, appearing for all the world to be waiting for them.

 

“They’re waiting in Penny’s office,” he told them matter-of-factly, voice pleasant but commanding their attention, “It’s right down this hall, first door on your right. Before you leave, I’ll be needing to speak to both you and your counterpart,” he indicated 23, “He knows this. I’ll be waiting.”

 

The man nodded, then walked the opposite way from where he directed them.

 

“Who was _that_  supposed to be?” Eliot asked, head spinning a bit from the pace things were changing at the moment.

 

“C’mon, we don’t have the time to worry about it right now,” Kady responded firmly, grabbing Julia’s wrist and leading the way in the direction they were told to go.

 

The short walk to the office wasn’t enough time for Eliot to mentally catch up, not enough time to really let it sink in that he was going to see Quentin, the real Quentin. It wasn’t until Kady unceremoniously threw the door to the office open, without so much as a courtesy knock, revealing the plain and stark interior, simply furnished with grey chairs, all clean lines and minimalist bullshit.

 

And Quentin, folded up in a chair in his usual way, perched on the balls of his feet. An interesting effect with the suit he was clad in, there was the ghost of a smile playing on his lips, something Penny (their Penny, slouching in another chair, looking mildly amused and sarcastic as ever) had probably snapped at him that he’d found amusing, but the expression was quickly shifting to shock, awe, his jaw dropping. For just a fragment of a moment his eyes find Eliot’s, and something flashes inside Eliot, all the times he’d seen Quentin through the hazy filter of the Monster’s gaze, the bloody violent moments, the dangerous threatening moments, where he was just holding on inside, hoping against hope. Then he sees Penny turn his head to look at the door, his expression immediately softening as he saw Kady standing there, still holding onto Julia. It was Julia who broke the silence, as they all stood transfixed, crowded at the doorway.

 

“ _Q_ ,” she cried quietly, a lifetime’s worth of love pushing its way into that one syllable, and she ran forward to him.

 

Kady’s hand fell limply to her side as she let Julia go to wrap her best friend in hug. Quentin stood to meet her, tears running down his face, though quickly masked by being buried in Julia’s hair. They were muttering urgent messages to each other, too low for the rest to hear, laughter breaking through with the easy affection of two friends who’ve been through it all together. Eliot felt awkward, like maybe having a rescue mission that required six people to get one from the Underworld was a bit of overkill. He felt like he was intruding on a tender moment that wasn’t his to witness. He looked to where Penny was getting up, completely mesmerized at the sight of Kady here.

 

“Hey,” he said finally, ever-so gently.

 

“Hey,” she replied, sounding a bit apologetic, a bit like she was on the verge of spilling tears. Another private moment.

 

Eliot looked to Margo by his side, she looked quiet and still for a moment, full of a tenderness he didn’t expect, _wouldn’t_  expect from her. Alice stood at his other side, and there was the feeling he felt was probably echoed on his own face. Unsure, now that the hardest parts were over, what to do with all the feelings that had built up. All the grief they had been carrying, the hopelessness, the lowest and most heart-aching and desperate moments, and just like that they were disproved by the man who was pulling back from the embrace to look at his best friend with a completely unreadable mix of emotions.

 

Eliot took the initiative to step into the room, breaking through the anxiety that was like a wall between him and the man he loved. Quentin stepped back from Julia, his eyes bright and face happy, looking transfixed at the sight of Eliot. Every atom of Eliot’s being, right down to the core, was screaming at him to think of an inappropriately witty one liner to shrug off the weight of this moment.

 

“ _Quentin_ ,” was the only thing his brain could supply, said solemnly, reverently, earnestly, passionately. Eliot hoped to whatever high holy power wanted to give him a helping hand here that it would communicate everything he needed it to.

 

All in a moment, Quentin was rushing over to embrace him, soft affection enveloping him in a way he remembered from a lifetime ago.

 

“Q,” he breathed the syllable out, wrapping the arm not supporting him on the cane up the other man’s back, cradling his head in a familiar gesture, feeling the hot tears pouring down his face, “Q, holy shit, I fucking-”

 

“Me too,” Quentin couldn’t seem to get close enough, Eliot could feel him breathing in deeply, face pressed into his chest, “I thought- I was scared that- I-”

 

“Yeah,” Eliot interjected shakily, trying for all the world to sound as if he had a modicum of certainty, “But I’m here, you’re here, we’re all here, and we’re going to be alright.”

-

Q

-

Something had sparked when Q and Eliot had first locked eyes. The eyes he had adjusted to looking him over in a calculating, puzzling way in the past few weeks. The eyes that had bored into him and he stood defiant, with _his_  hands wrapped around his throat, daring the Monster to kill him. But just as fast it faded, Quentin saw the care and emotion in Eliot’s eyes, saw the way he was carrying himself. The same features the Monster had occupied, but somehow completely different with the right person in control.

 

Now here Quentin was, just standing in the warmth of Eliot’s embrace for the first time in what felt like _forever_. Eliot’s hand was cupping the back of his head, fingers just a little tangled in his hair in a way that felt grounding, felt real somehow. Everything just melted away, there was only this comfort, only this feeling of fate just aligning his way for a brief moment.

 

“Alright, El, stop hogging Coldwater,”Margo said, barely succeeding in creating a bored, bossy, and impatient coating on the words filled with real emotion, somehow filled with love, Quentin realized, “We all missed him, and we all worked our asses off for this, I’ll be damned if I don’t get some appreciation for that.”

 

Quentin smiled and felt Eliot draw back a little clumsily, noted for a second the familiar cane he was putting a fair amount of weight on, and remembered him laying on the floor of the forest, after the axes had cleared out the monster, but left a sizable gash pouring out so much blood. Eliot’s unoccupied hand travelled down Quentin’s arm, giving him a comforting squeeze before dropping away, and Quentin met his eyes to see an affectionate expression on the other man’s face.

 

“We get it, you missed each other,” Margo snapped, but her expression was also inexplicably soft, she took Q in for a moment, as if sizing him up, “Not a bad look, Q.”

 

She brushed back a lock of hair that must have been dislodged in the affection shared with Jules and Eliot, then in turn cupping his cheek in her slender hand, standing on her toes to plant a kiss on the other side of his face, and let her hand fall to his shoulder where she gripped him tight, looking his seriously in the eye.

 

“Listen to me, you little shit,” Margo told him, in a quiet but entirely loving voice, “I love you, and I’ll do absolutely anything for you, okay? If that’s ever been unclear to you, I want it to be crystal clear now. I don’t know why, but from the moment you came into our lives, you fucking _made sense_ , okay? I don’t want to lose you again, do you hear me? It’s been a rough fucking year and this is about all I can manage.”

 

“I’m sorry, Margo,” Q replied, tears building in his eyes all over.

 

“Don’t apologize, hon,” Margo reprimanded, wiping away a tear, “And don’t cry. Just know, I’m _going_  to be here for you, even if that’s tiring and annoying to you.”

 

“I can’t see the concept of someone as strong as you being there for me becoming tiring,” Quentin told her sincerely, small smile breaking across his face, and it reflecting all the more brilliantly on hers.

 

“Come on, Coldwater,” Margo’s eyes twinkle as she pulls him by the wrist to where Alice is standing stone still in the door, picturesque in her icy blonde fragility.

 

His attention snaps to where Alice is standing in front of him, seemingly speechless and completely still, and then she all but tackles him in a fierce hug, still not saying a word, just gripping him tightly as if she’s proving to herself this is _real_. Quentin understands the feeling, but a part of his heart breaks at the same time. They might love each other, but not in a way that was ever healthy for either of them, never in the way either of them deserved. Nevertheless, he holds on to her for a long moment, and when he breaks away he thinks he sees some of the same confusion he feels in her expression.

 

She nods stiffly, as if agreeing to an unspoken communication, “I missed you.”

 

“Yeah,” he responds, smiling apologetically again, “Me too, Alice.”

 

“Okay, I know we have somewhere around thirty five and a half hours to spare, but I’ll really feel a lot better once we get out of the Underworld,” Alice said quickly, looking away from him and to the others, “No offense, Penny.”

 

“Can’t blame you,” Penny responded easily, “I just have to do something first, with… well I guess you guys met him and got _some_  sort of explanation.”

 

He nodded to 23, the two were distinguishable by more than just the way they were dressed, Quentin noted mentally. There was a way of carrying himself casually that 23 just didn’t have, the double being a little more careful and closed off. It was almost imperceptible, and Quentin probably only noticed because Penny was who he’d spent most of his time with over the past few weeks. The two left the room, and a low hum of anxiety Q knew would usually be playing at full volume if they were top side was running through his head as he thought of what they were off to do. He had a slim understanding that Penny and 23 were switching places, Penny had asked him not to mention it to anyone until it was settled, it was a precarious enough situation as is. 23 had to agree to it without being influenced in either way by anyone else, that was the deal apparently.

 

“What’s _that_  about, anyway?” Kady asked when the two were gone, suspicion clear on her face

 

Quentin offered a noncommittal shrug, tugging a bit at his tie.

 

“I’m not official Library staff, I don’t really get access to that much behind the scenes knowledge,” he said apologetically, mentally noting that it really wasn’t a lie, he _didn’t_  know the exacts of whatever the hell was going on.

 

“Right.”

-

Penny

-

“He’s going to make you an offer,” Penny stated to his counterpart, trying for a casual tone of voice that usually came with ease, but the weight of the world seemed to be on his shoulders. The weight of the getting to return to the world.

 

“You don’t have to accept it,” he continued, knowing the other was dissecting every part of his phrasing, weighing the tone of each word as it came out of his mouth, “Do me a favor, and really think about it as selfishly as possible. Don’t worry about anyone else, only yourself.”

 

“That’s fucking vague,” 23 shot back, voice a little sharp with annoyance, “Do you wanna clarify?”

 

“Afraid that’s not up to me, man,” Penny smirked and pulled open an office door, allowing his alternate self to step in first, finding Hades waiting patiently behind a desk, reading over a contract, but looking up in mild interest.

 

“Good,” the god says lightly, setting the papers slightly to the side, “Close the door behind you, Penny.”

 

“What’s this about, anyway?” 23 asks immediately, wasting no time on formalities.

 

“Take a seat, would you?” Hades suggested, gesturing to the chairs on their side of the desk.

 

Penny sat carefully, feeling anxiety bubbling in his chest, while his counterpart slumped down, glaring suspiciously at Hades. The moment of truth. Or, the moment where all of this could come crumbling down. At least Quentin will get out of here.

 

“You’re not happy, are you?” Hades asked, verbally tacking a question onto the end of the statement merely to seem just a touch less infuriating. Penny could tell he knew the answer already.

 

“Right now? Kinda impatient, I guess,” 23 replied, tone matching his response.

 

“I mean up there, in your surrogate timeline,” the god clarified.

 

“I’m happier than I was in my own.”

 

“Because you’d lost everyone you cared about,” Hades said, “You thought you could replace them, specifically replace Julia with the one you found, but she’s not the same girl.”

 

“No, she’s not,” 23 was getting irritated, folding his arms across his chest, “Are you getting to a point or are you just trying to make me miserable?”

 

“I want to make you an offer. I’m giving you both the option to switch places, Penny who is now in service to the library goes to the living world, Penny from the twenty third timeline would enter service to the library.”

 

A beat of silence followed, Penny knew if it was possible his heart would be pounding in his chest. 23’s expression was unreadable, he seemed to be processing the whole thing.

 

“Your offer is for me to die?” he asked slowly, after a long while.

 

“In a way, I suppose.”

 

“Why?”

 

“I genuinely think you would find the work fulfilling. I think you would find something that you’ve been looking for.”

 

There was another long pause, the tension in the room becoming thick and palpable. Hades finally sighed, pushing back from the desk.

 

“She’s here.”

 

“What are you talking about?”

 

“She’s here, she works for the library.”

 

Penny furrowed his brows, catching up to what the god was implying.

 

“Wait, how does that makes sense? I’ve never-”

 

“She joined the library after she passed, she was very headstrong about doing something with her after life. One of the only librarians to rise through the ranks in the Underworld faster than your counterpart here. I believe you are familiar with her, she was a knowledge student in your year at Brakebills.”

 

“Julia,” the name passed through 23’s lips so softly, like he was worried voicing it would make it all come crashing back down.

 

“Julia,” the god confirmed.

-

Eliot

-

Alice had been right about being anxious to return to the living world, each moment dragged on as they waited for the two Penny’s to return so they’d be on their way. Eliot could see Q growing anxious, he was toying with the edge of the sleeve of his jacket and biting his lip, throwing frequent glances at the door. Kady’s hand was entangled in Julia’s, she was rubbing her thumb repeatedly over the other girl’s knuckles, her face seemed to grow subtley more surly by the minute.

 

The lack of ambient noise in the Underworld was growing more and more apparent, the hall the office was located in seemed to not be frequented by Librarians, the only reprieve from the suffocating silence was one of them occasionally clearing their throat, or adjusting their position, trying to shake off the tension. Margo was in her natural position at Eliot’s side, holding onto his arm, maybe as an instinct to keep him steady, or trying to hold herself back from losing her patience.

 

Finally, distant footsteps were within earshot, Eliot held a breath in as they approached. The door opened, there 23 was, looking at them all with a touch of apprehension.

 

“Ready?” he asked simply, not taking a full step inside, instead jerking his head towards the hallway, indicating for them to follow.

 

Eliot looked to Q automatically, like he needed to keep checking that Q was there, he was coming with them, it was all alright. Q’s expression seemed to be a mix of relief and confirmed suspicion at seeing 23 return. Interesting.

 

“Penny’s not…” Kady started saying, as the group moved forward, furrowing her brows and squinting a bit at the man in the doorway.

 

“Kady…” he replied, and that’s when it clicked for Eliot. This Penny was all soft tenderness for Kady, it was a dead giveaway after how 23 had been walking on eggshells in the most stiff and reserved way.

 

Eliot glanced down at Margo to make sure she was getting this, she looked back with one eyebrow carefully arched then rolled her eyes and shrugged her shoulders.

 

“I don’t have the emotional capacity to deal with this right now,” she announced, “It’s their lives, or after lives, or what-the-fuck ever, so as long as no one was forced into anything, and everyone’s happy-”

 

“Yeah,” Penny confirmed quickly.

 

“Fantastic, let’s get a move on, then. I’m really not in the mood to meet anymore obstacles.”

 

Quentin smirked fondly at this, catching Eliot’s eye as they shared a moment of amusement at their friend’s endearing impatience. It felt so natural for a moment, sharing their thoughts with only a glance, a lifetime together echoing through the simple unspoken communication. Then Q blinked away from the eye contact self consciously, Eliot felt a stab of guilt at the awkwardness between them. That was entirely on Eliot and he couldn’t blame Quentin if they could never be friends in the same way again, let alone try a relationship. What mattered now was Quentin was going to be alive again, all the rest of it was nothing in comparison to Q simply getting to live a life that he deserved, that he wanted.

 

Margo gave Eliot’s arm a squeeze as Q turned to follow the rest of the group out of the room.

 

“We’ll work on it, okay?” she said softly, leading him in the wake of the others.

 

“It doesn’t matter, Bambi.”

 

“You know what, El? It does. You two are the people that matter the most to me and it matters whether or not you’re happy.”

 

“Let’s focus on ‘alive’ for right now, okay?”

 

“I think- and don’t mistake this for me being a sap because I will beat the shit out of you for it- happiness is one of the key factors for that.”

 

She gave him a significant look as they caught up to everyone waiting at the elevator, and paired it with a fond grin.

 

“Not to accuse you of sentimentality, but I love you too.”

-

The cool air felt sharp in Eliot’s lungs as he breathed it in, for what felt like the first time in too long. A second later he was slammed with the usual aches and pains that came along with a body on the mend from serious axe wounds. The wooden dock was hard and uncomfortable against his back, he turned his head to the side, feeling full of anxiety when he took in the body they had built for Quentin, lying so still.

 

Too still. _Too fucking still._

 

The moment stretched out, long and horrible as doom crushed him.

 

Something went wrong and Quentin wasn’t waking up. He hadn’t made it back, something had stopped him or he had changed his mind.

 

Quentin’s face remained smooth and blank.

 

The air that had filled Eliot’s lungs again went stale there, he tasted bitter bile at the back of his throat as it all came crashing down. Their one shot, wasted. They had nothing left to bargain.

 

Then Quentin’s brow furrowed, his eyes snapped open and he gasped a breath in. Eliot felt the tears falling out of his eyes as he still lay out where he’d fallen when the dragon transported them to the Underworld, but he couldn’t gather anything that felt remotely like giving a shit about that.

 

“Oh,” he heard him self shakily exhale the vowel, saw Quentin snap his attention to him abruptly, locking his warm brown eyes in the most comforting gaze, “Thank god. Thank fucking Christ, Jesus I was so scared for a second. Oh, Q, thank _god_.”

 

Q let his face break into a smile, small at first, but it grew, joyful laughter bubbling out of him as turned to Eliot and reached a hand out to hold one of his, squeezing it hard for a moment. Eliot reached out with his other hand, rolling onto his side to face him, reflexively cupping Q’s face in his hand, rubbing his thumb along the man’s cheekbone. Q nuzzled into the contact, closing his eyes for a moment.

 

“You- uh- need a hand up?” came a question from high above.

 

Eliot squinted up to see Penny standing above him, seeming a bit out of sorts but mostly happy and relieved.

 

“Not to, like, interrupt the moment or anything…” he continued, squatting down to be on their level, looking a little uncomfortable, but mostly smug, “But, well, you two are lying on a dock by the Hudson river, so maybe you want to take this moment somewhere less… disgusting? More private?”

 

Quentin pulled his hands away to cover his face, which was slowly but surely turning beet red, and started rolling away while muttering something that sounded a whole lot like _fuck off_.

 

“There’s the attitude we all know and love,” Penny commented wryly, holding a hand out for Eliot to hold onto, the other sliding under his shoulder to help prop him up. Quentin flipped him off with an embarrassed half-smile playing at his lips as he got up from the uncomfortable wooden planks himself.

 

“You know, Penny,” Eliot started with an air of faux innocence, letting Penny help him to his feet and holding onto the man’s shoulder once he got there, “If you wanted to join, all you’d have to do is ask. I, for one, would never turn you down.”

 

Penny barked out a genuine laugh, loud and happy, cutting into the careful hush hanging over the dock. Quentin let out a quiet choked noise Eliot knew he was hoping no one would notice.

 

“Shut the fuck up, Waugh,” he replied fondly, but he wrapped his arms around Eliot anyway, pulling him into a warm hug.

 

“Not the response I was expecting but I’m really not going to complain,” Eliot said in return, holding on tight to the rare show of affection from the snarky traveler.

 

“So I take this to mean it all went well?” came a bright voice Eliot had forgotten all about. He turned to see Poppy was sitting at her desk, expression cheerful as ever, “You all were much faster than I was expecting, very efficient.”

 

“Better to be efficient than devoured by a dragon,” Margo shot exasperatedly at the perky redhead.

 

“Hey, no arguments here,” she answered happily, then set her eyes on Quentin, “Hey, Q. How goes it?”

 

“Uh…” Quentin looked a bit taken aback by her presence, he clearly wasn’t expecting her, “Better?”

 

“We should be getting back to the Cottage,” Julia stated matter-of-factly, slipping her hand into Quentin’s protectively, “Thanks for your help Poppy, really.”

 

“Anytime.”

-

“Do you want… um… something to eat?” Julia asked as she stood in the doorway, looking like she wanted to help but not quite sure what she should do.

 

They were all back in the Cottage, sitting in the kitchen. Penny was rummaging through the cabinets, looking deeply unimpressed.

 

“I mean I haven’t actually had anything to eat in who-the-fuck knows how long so I’d love an actual meal but you guys have like… five cans of chickpeas and half a jar of almond butter. Oh, and more ramen than you could possibly eat in a life time.”

 

“We kinda killed the last of our actual food off the other night,” Kady explained half-apologetically, “We were too distracted to really think about restocking anything.”

 

“I’ll order a pizza to the apartment,” Julia said, turning out of the room so she could portal back to the city, “Half meat, half veggie?”

 

“Just get two pies,” Penny answered.

 

Quentin was perched on the counter top, face turned with an amused expression to where Penny was looking into the barren refrigerator, still muttering about useless college kids.

 

“I apologize for the state of our pantry,” Eliot drawled, “Normally I would have cared more about having actual food, but I’ve been distracted. And, okay, to be fair, we’re grad students.”

 

“I don’t think we actually qualify as students anymore, hon,” Margo cut in, “When was the last time any of us attended a class.”

 

“I think we’re still somehow enrolled,” Alice said quietly.

 

“Well, shit,” Margo replied, “That’s a bummer.”

 

Penny let out a sigh, letting the door of the fridge close. He walked over to the kitchen island, leaning his elbows on it and nudging Q easily in a friendly gesture as he faced the others.

 

“Do you plan on returning to class?” Q asked carefully.

 

Kady snorted, Margo fixed him with an incredulous stare, Alice looked like she was fighting the impulse to roll her eyes and sigh, Penny just laughed quietly, shaking his head.

 

“After all the shit we’ve been through, you think we want to go back to sitting in a classroom listening to smug assholes who’ve barely done anything with their lives tell us what they think we’re going to be doing with _ours_?” Kady asked him sarcastically, "I mean, technically I'm expelled, so that's on the rest of you."

 

“Well- no- I-” Quentin sputtered a little, a faint trace of pink rising on his cheekbones as he seemed to realize how the thought sounded, “I was think- I… I’d love to… teach.”

 

As Q trailed off, Eliot watched Margo’s stare soften, actually cracking a smile at him.

 

“I think you’d be really good at that, Q.”

-


End file.
